Departures and Arrivals
by Oleanne
Summary: How does one say goodbye to the only land one has known? How does one leave his children for a journey into the unknown? This is a story about Elrond's journey west.
1. Chapter 1

_How does one say __goodbye to the only land one has known? How does one leave their children for a journey into the unknown? This is a story about Elrond's journey west._

_Xxxxxxxxx Winter 3021 end of the Third Age xxxxxxxxX_

The door to Lord Elrond's chambers was halfway open. Lindir knocked, but when he heard no reply, he peered around the door into the sitting room. Elrond was carefully drilling a hole in a wooden rod that was held securely by clamps. The table held drill bits of various sizes, a charcoal marking stick, and sanding paper. Lindir set the case he was carrying down by the door and waited until Elrond stopped drilling and blew to dislodge the wood shavings.

"How is the flute coming, my Lord?" Elrond looked up, blinking dazedly. Obviously, the elf had been intently working for some time.

"Lindir, welcome." Elrond smiled slightly and beckoned him closer. "It has been many years since I made a flute. The middle notes still require adjustments. Would you mind?" He wiped the flute off with a soft cloth.

"I am happy to assist. Your grandchildren will appreciate your efforts." Lindir approached the table and accepted the flute. Amidst all the wood shavings lay a list, which unlike those of so many contained not things meant for Valinor, but things to be left for relatives here instead. "You have been working hard." Lindir studied the instrument intently, noting the care that had gone into its fabrication. _"Who knew his Lord could craft instruments?" _Elrond was always full of surprises, he decided.

"Lillanlai taught me when she was but a youth among the Avari." Elrond answered the unspoken question. It took several moments before Lindir recalled that Queen Lillanlai, Thranduil's wife, had been quite a musician. Lindir played scales several times.

"Yes, the fourth hole needs adjusting." They spent nearly an hour perfecting the tones of the flute. Lindir sat back, having finally given his approval. While it was still early in the afternoon, Elrond was clearly tired. He looked towards the open trunk.

"You are well on your way to finishing the presents on your list." Lindir noted. "Will you send them to Gondor this year?"

"I plan to have Elladan send them three years from now." Elrond yawned.

"Mistress Silsi will have my head if I keep you from your rest."

"Aye," Elrond agreed as he rose. "They treat me like some fragile glass." Lindir smiled amiably, although that was his private opinion as well. All wanted their lord and dear friend to arrive safely in the west.

"I have a surprise for you. Perhaps I can play a song or two to help you rest."

"You finished the harp already?" Elrond exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yes, I modeled it exactly on the one you gave me. It must have been an exquisite instrument in its time. When was it last played?" The wood had long since dried out and cracked. Lindir could not fathom how old it was or how carefully it had been stored. It should have long since fallen to dust.

"The last time I dared to string it was in the middle of the second age. It was a gift from Maglor when I left Himring." Elrond divulged quietly.

"I tried to match the wood. That was the most difficult part, although the design is quite different from current instruments. But its tone is sweet and will deepen and grow richer with time." He pulled the instrument from the case. It was meant as a travel harp and was smaller than typical instruments of the day. Elrond gasped at its likeness to the original.

"Lindir," he gaped, suddenly at a loss for words. Lindir held back a smile and moved to sit beside the fire.

"Come, my Lord. Will you not lay down and I will play a short song?" He motioned to the couch, then lifted the harp, and plucked a scale. The harp woke to Lindir's deft fingers. "Any requests?" Lindir did not wait for a response, but delved into an old piece on the dawn of the sun. Elrond could not hide his amazement and shuffled slowly over to the couch, mesmerized by the juxtaposition of the new instrument with memories from ancient times. Elrond did not find his voice until the song ended.

"It is uncanny how alike they are."

"Are you planning on gifting this to one of Arwen's children or were you going to bring it west?" Lindir was intrigued. "I am sorry, the sounding board of the original disintegrated when I was dismantling it.

"They are just things, and nothing lasts forever." Elrond whispered. Lindir's heart went out to him.

"But the love we give gets passed down to others forever." Lindir paused, but before the silence became awkward, continued. "I gleaned enough information to design this one. Most of the wood appeared to be some type of spruce, but the sounding board was an unusual grain."

"The sounding board came from a southern tree that Maglor had found in their early wanderings many years before they settled in Himring. It was made from Bubinga wood, a tree over harvested and traded by a people that later inhabited Harad."

"Do you think he wanders there now?"

"I know not, although if I had the strength, I would try to find him." Elrond rubbed his temple. Lindir handed him the blanket.

"Perhaps after a short rest. Silsi said she would be up to wake you. Sleep well my Lord." Lindir smiled at Elrond's tired sigh. Perhaps his people were overprotective of their Peredhel. But it had been their good fortune and none would ever regret the years they had spent in the haven built by their singular guardian.

"Thank you for your expertise today. I think Arwen's children will treasure the instruments just as much as Arwen and Estel treasured the composition you wrote for their wedding."

"It was my pleasure to be a part of that day." Lindir bowed and left his Lord to his rest. Elrond stood slowly and bent to stir the fire and add one more log. He leaned closer, enjoying the warmth of the fire, for the air was still cool. Celeborn and Galadriel would set out from Lothlórien once the snow melted from the passes. They planned to celebrate their last summer solstice together here in Imladris. The ring bearers and nearly a thousand elves would sail with the first autumn tides. More than half of those had already departed, having chosen to spend their last months in Mithlond. But Imladris was far from empty. The numbers of the Dúnedain had swelled in the summer. Now half of Imladris' council was of the Edain. Indeed, the clamor of their children brought great joy to the hearts of the elves who remained. _It was childish shrieks of joy he heard now, coming from Celebrian's garden. He had been tending the fires in his room, had he not? But now his toes felt the grass, which was green as in the mid-summer._ _Was this a dream? Yet, he did not remember lying down. He turned to spy a curly haired boy smiling up at him. The youth could be no more than four or five. His eyes were silver like Arwen's but his smile held the mischievous delight of a young Estel. His eyes revealed his story. This was a cherished child – one who was secure in that love and self-assured. The boy waved and held a finger to his lips before dashing off into the trees. He heard other children laughing and shrieking in the distance._

"_Adar, if you were here, surely you would tell me?" asked the woman who sat on Celebrian's bench. He knew that voice and hardly dared to breathe. Almost immediately, Ereinion's calming words from an age ago rang in his head. "Visions are what may be, not what will be. The future is not written. Be careful to not get too caught up in them." Yet, as a parent, how could he do anything else but care for his daughter – and give thanks for this gift of a vision of her from the future?_

"_Sell-nin, my dear one." He knelt before her and gently grasped her hands. "What is it that you need?" Her liquid silver eyes grew wide as she recognized him._

"_An apparition? Are you real, Adar-nin?"_

"_I have no explanation as to how this has come to pass, but I am here, dear heart." She pulled him up into an embrace. Words flowed out of her about their delight in their son and their trials and tribulations at the loss of a child early in a second pregnancy. They grieved over the loss. She feared. Would they be able to have another child? There was no elven word for this loss. A 'miscarriage' was a foreign term. Although Elrond the healer was familiar with it, Elrond the father was greatly grieved that his child had such an experience._

"_What if we cannot have another? They expect us to have many children."_

"_Hush, dear heart." Elrond bent to kiss her head. "We can only trust in Eru and rejoice in the child or children with which we are blessed. Elves space their children further apart because of the strength required to nourish their spirits. Even the Dúnedain attempt to separate births more than their brethren among the Edain. It may be as simple as waiting." He pulled back from her, his healer's instinct taking over. "May I?" He held his hands palms up in the traditional request for permission._

"_Please, Adar-nin." Arwen moved to lie on the grass. Its scent was pure and fresh. Elrond slowly began to assess her. His hands gently brushed her head and then hovered just above her as he moved slowly and methodically along her torso. There were strong connections that tied her spirit to Eldarion's through which the child still drew much nourishment for his soul. Surprisingly, there were also connections to Aragorn, which also supported her. Such connections were very unusual among the Edain and were another sign of their Valar blessed union. These connections were different than with elfish couples, but were still nourishing and supportive. He sensed scarring and damage from the lost child. "Elbereth, please help me heal my beloved daughter." He silently prayed as he reached out to share his spirit and to focus the healing on the scars and strengthen her beleaguered spirit. The pain in his chest grew as the healing flowed from him, reminding him of how little he had left to share._

"_Arwen!" Aragorn's voice rang with worry. A king's face swam across his vision causing Elrond to pull back from his daughter. A cold breeze chilled him back to reality. Was this the future? Had he not been stirring the coals against the last of winter's chill? No, the cold was the effects of a vision._

"_Adar? How? I do not understand?" Aragorn gaped as he pulled a shivering Arwen into his arms._

"_A gift from Eru." Arwen smiled and pulled her Adar into their combined embrace. _

"_I love you. I am so very proud of you both." Elrond whispered hoarsely. _ _"Be well … live well."_

"_I love you too Adar." Arwen smiled. "Thank you."_

"_We miss you." Aragorn eyes glinted. "If this is a vision, it answered our deeply held wish. Your advice would be most valuable."_

"_You do not need me any more. I have seen glimpses of how you deftly handle difficult diplomatic situations with Harad." _

"_It has been the bane of the early years of our rule." _

"_Yet, your hard fought successes will ensure peace."_

"_For how long?"_

"_We can only give our best and do what we believe is right. There are none that I would trust more with the future of these lands then you both." He shivered again, and Arwen's happiness turned to concern._

"_You have yet to sail." She somehow knew._

"_We set out soon." Elrond agreed. _

"_You must give our love to everyone – to Naneth and," Her eyes lit with mischief, "to Ereinion. There are many who await your arrival. Your life will be far from dull. Go back Adar." He felt more than saw her last kiss. A haze fogged his vision but did not obscure well wishes of his loved ones. Time and space bent wildly, like a vortex or a waterspout. Could a soul survive such twisting? _The warm air of summer vanished upon a winter zephyr. His knees hit snow-covered ground as he slumped exhausted against the stone bench in the center of the now sleeping garden. The sudden cold stole his breath and fogged his thoughts.

"Glorfindel," he called to his protector for aid. To a weary Peredhel, the chilled secluded garden seemed insurmountably far from the warmth of the house.


	2. Chapter 2: Whose choice to leave?

_Whose choice to leave?_

_Xxxxxxxxx Spring 3021 end of the Third Age xxxxxxxxX_

"Elrond was correct about the wolves. His connection to the valley is still very strong," Cirulian mused, "but keeping our inhabitants safe will now require more guards."

"Say instead more man-power." Glorfindel chuckled as they turned towards the house.

"They will be yours to guide, train, and deal with." Cirulian was relieved in some ways for he had been Glorfindel's right hand almost since the founding of Imladris. Except for the occasional sabbatical in Mithlond, he had spent most of this age planning for the safety of Imladris and its Lord. What would he do in the West? How would the Teleri there react to his nearly two ages of loyalty to Elrond?

"They do learn quickly," Glorfindel noted in approval. "I will need to pick someone to take up your duties. Our new trainees will soon be ready to patrol the grounds. But for strategizing and planning for contingencies? I think they are not yet ready. I, for one, am thankful that wolves and wildlife are to be the primary problems versus more sinister enemies."

"_Glorfindel."_ He halted. Cirulian nearly bumped into him.

"What?" The Teleri stopped as he recognized the glaze that momentarily fogged the Vanyar's eyes. He gave thanks yet again that the one ring had been destroyed, for Glorfindel and Erestor would never be held to their oath to Gil-Galad. Elrond was no longer in danger of falling under the Dark Maiar's control. The fell servant of Morgoth had been purged from this land. Glorfindel blinked, a puzzled look in his eyes. "Is there something wrong with our Lord?"

"He is in Celebrian's garden and needs my assistance." Glorfindel turned to take the shorter path through the woods.

"He ignores Silsilalda's request that he rest in the mid-afternoon?" Cirulian recalled.

"Obviously, but why? We will soon find out."

Glorfindel stopped suddenly for the air was strange. He reached out with his senses, half expecting to detect the metallic twang of Vilya. He felt Elrond's bright soul, much wearied, the song of the Evenstar, and something other – otherworldly. There was no sign that any had passed this way. One as weary as Elrond would have trudged through the snow, yet the surroundings were pristine and unmarked. Glorfindel spied the telltale dark hair, an ebony curtain around a too pale figure. His heart nearly skipped a beat as he hurried over to his friend.

"Elrond?" The Peredhel was slumped against the bench, kneeling in the snow. He wore no cloak or shoes and was shivering, although Glorfindel did not think it was due to the cold. In one swift movement, the Vanya had removed his cloak and wrapped it around the Peredhel.

"His skin is like ice, but his clothes are warm. He has not been here long," Glorfindel noted as he lifted his Elrond.

"A leisurely stroll out to here would have left him exposed to the elements much longer." Cirulian observed then added with a note of worry, "He hates to be carried."

"Clear our way." Glorfindel was also worried about the lack of response. To Mordor with unrealistic protocols that held poor elven royalty to such an unassailable standard that they needed to pretend that they never were injured. They were nearly at the back steps when Elrond stirred.

"Glor?" Came the somewhat dazed response.

"Rest a moment, Elrond." Glorfindel carried him up the steps. Cirulian had run ahead to be sure that no one would be in the hallway. He opened the door as they arrived.

"Thank you. I think I can walk." Elrond whispered weakly.

"I should hope so." Glorfindel laughed as he set Elrond down on the bench. The Peredhel sank gratefully into the seat. Glorfindel and Cirulain exchanged worried glances before the golden elf bent to remove Elrond's wet socks, exchanging them for the house slippers that were stored near the entrance. "Take your time, Elrond. There is no one around. Why did I sense your daughter? She is in Gondor, is she not?" He could tell his guess hit close to the mark, even though their Lord was inscrutable to most.

"She inherited your penache for heart stopping adventures. Perhaps I am still needed in these lands to watch over Turgon's line after all." Glorfindel smiled. "That is, once I have escorted you safely to the ship."

"And watched it sail." Cirulian added in amusement.

"Perhaps I will give my charge over to Cirulian and Erestor, so that they can keep you safe in the west."

"Unsporting to … tease … when … not able to defend." Elrond spoke breathlessly.

"The Herald of the High King!" Cirulian chuckled.

"Who normally wields words with surgical precision." Glorfindel laughed, rejoicing to see Elrond's lips curve upwards in amusement. Erestor approached carrying a tray. He set it on the bench besides Elrond.

"I heard a little Miruvor was in order." His words were light, although his concern was clear. He poured a small cup for Elrond. Elrond accepted it with a low mumble of thanks and sipped it slowly. Erestor kept the conversation entertaining, updating them on the news of the day until Elrond had finished the cordial and set down his cup.

"The guards said you had not left your room. Yet, Glorfindel finds you in the garden?" Erestor stated curiously. Elrond merely shrugged, clearly either not wanting or not able to give an explanation.

"Perhaps it was something like the incident with Gil-Galad and Arwen, when she was but a child." Glorfindel offered. Elrond nodded through a yawn. An age ago, there had been a strange experience or shared vision that blessed Elrond, Celebrian, and Arwen with a short meeting with Gil-Galad long after the High King had perished.

"I am sure you can explain later after a short rest." Cirulian offered the Peredhel a welcome delay. Elrond rose gingerly. Though he would be loathed to hear, his friends were each deeply concerned by his appearance. Since the destruction of the ring, Elrond grew steadily weaker, almost as if the valley drew strength directly from the bearer. Perhaps that was not far from the truth. The unnatural barriers that protected the valley were diminished, yet still in place, and one could still feel the comforting, subtle, and renewing air of the haven even if now it was only once one crossed the Bruinen.

Xxxxxxxxx Several weeks later xxxxxxxX

_Dear Eru, thank you for keeping Elrohir and me safe. Please, help us guide Imladris and expand the schools here to help heal those who remain. Dear Eru - guide our choices but please allow us to stay together if that be your will." _Elladan had never been given much to prayer until they had taken the paths of the dead and survived the battles of the ensuing months. He knew that his and Elrohir's choice would soon be upon them. Only now, as they assumed leadership of Imladris, did they truly appreciate the influence the haven had in the past and could have in the future to promote learning and peace. He slipped from his bed and went through his sitting room into the shared bathroom. Elrohir also had an entrance to it from his rooms. They had not wanted to move to separate suites. By the look of things, Elrohir had already come and gone. It was a surprising occurrence. He shrugged on a tunic. The gold embroidery was more elaborate than anything he used to wear, but now in the role of Lord of Imladris, he was required to don clothing that denoted his office. A knock on the door caused him to button the tunic faster.

"Come in." Elladan called.

"Lord Elladan." Eruingal's voice lilted in amusement.

"Laughing will not impress visiting dignitaries." Elladan countered. "I thought I taught you better."

"It is a simple trade agreement." Eruingal laughed. "And if I listed the things that you taught me, both my father and yours would be quite irate." Although Erestor's son was a few years older than Elladan, the Peredhil children had been much more imaginative in planning adventures. Their childhood exploits were the basis for legends and tales of warning.

"Touché!" Elladan gave an exaggerated bow. "I am glad that we are in this together. I had thought most of our people would sail."

"The numbers are still in flux, but I believe that elves will have a presence in the valley for awhile yet. But the council convenes shortly, and you have not yet eaten."

"No harm at missing a single meal here and there." Elladan laughed. "I am not my Adar."

"I will remind you of that." Eruingal laughed as they headed down the hall. Necessity and consequences of the war meant that new trade routes and treaties were needed. A new council planned the valley's future while many of the Eldar and previous council members planned their journey West. Their duties often rotated, for no one could stand the pressures of leadership for millennia, though his Adar was always recognized as the head of Imladris. They proceeded to the smaller conference room neighboring the council chambers. Initial negotiations on the trade agreement lasted for an hour. Then there was only a short break before the council of Imladris convened. The docket for the meeting included discussion and approval of the shortened healing program designed for the Edain healers. The two-year education and training courses were even now being implemented with the small party of visitors from Gondor and Rohan.

"A message from the Lothlórien." Iesten handed Elladan the paper. It was rare that a guard interrupted the council in session, and of course they handed the message to the new Lord of the Valley.

"By messenger bird?" Erestor noted in surprise. The guard nodded. Silence fell around the council table as Elladan opened the note and scanned its details.

"The party from Lothlórien will be larger than anticipated." Elladan informed them. "It seems more elves have decided to sail with their Lady.

"Have they informed Cirdan of their intent?" Eruingal asked.

"It says that arrangements have been made with Mithlond." Elladan replied.

"Will we have enough room to house them?" Ithlathron worried.

"It should not be a problem. We have provided quarters to much larger visitors." Merwen answered while he and Erestor exchanged a knowing glance. They were leaving the valley to new hands. More than half the council now consisted of Edain members. The majority of those were Dúnedain. _"How would the valley adjust?" _Erestor wondered as he watched his son Eruingal direct the next discussion. He sat silently, now a proud father watching his son deftly guide the discussion. It was at once a strange and liberating thought, one that filled him with both anticipation and worry. Yes, Elladan and Eruingal would guide the valley well. Elrohir would primarily handle the expansion of the healing school and coordinate the visiting scholars from the world of men. But what would his own role be in foreign lands?

_Xxxxxxx Celebrian's garden a few weeks later xxxxxxxX_

"Your teas have improved. I am glad you took my advice for adding milk and honey." Bilbo complemented. As always, Master Elrond's guard, Cirulian if he recalled rightly, kept a somber face.

"Some medicines are rendered less effective in mixtures while others take on stronger properties. But I think the milk and honey here at least do no harm." Elrond smiled as Bilbo sipped the healing draught. They talked about the preparations for the journey and discussed Frodo's last letters.

"This shall be my last adventure, I think." Bilbo paused. "Do you think my lad Frodo will truly come with us? He was very upset about the state of Bag End – a nasty business with that Sharky and his henchmen. To think what they made of my home!"

"I believe Frodo and Sam have restored much. Also, your gifts and the cuttings from our gardens should brighten their spring and bring joy for the summer. One cannot erase what happened – nor should one. For the lessons of history prompt vigilance in the present." Elrond shifted in his seat. He had glimpses of the future. But what actions should one take? Perhaps some decisions might induce the very future he hoped to help.

"But it may not be enough. It may not be enough for Frodo." Bilbo repeated. "If only there was something I could do, some way that I could aid them." A bell rang in the distance. "Perhaps I will ponder this after lunch." He rose and smiled at Elrond. "Are you coming?"

"Please go ahead. I will join you before long." Elrond returned softly. Cirulian tried not to laugh at Bilbo's low mutter about Elves not having enough respect for meals. Elrond, though, seemed to stare off into the distance. Cirulian thought perhaps he was checking on the security of the valley, but the power from Vilya was much diminished.

_The desk was situated in front of the window, to give its occupant full view of the garden below as well as to give the glinting silver beauty a chance to bask in the warm sun. He drew in a breath in admiration. How had he been so blessed?_

"_Why are you hiding in the doorway, Meleth-nin?" Her laugh was as melodious chimes, but she continued writing. The feather quilt danced lightly across the paper._

"_You get precious little time to yourself these days." He smiled and bent to kiss the top of her head, careful not to jostle her. She was writing about the twin's latest exploits. The three year olds were very inquisitive but as yet had no sense of what might be dangerous. Thus, in their waking hours, they required full supervision. "Are you noting how they ran their parents and caregivers ragged so that when they are grown, you have documentation to show them?"_

"_No!" Celebrian laughed, but then her voice took on a shimmer of her mother's. "But elves have such few children these days. Would that we could share tales with other mothers - who are contemporaries, like the daughters of Men do. Someday," she paused, "these tales may be a balm to others. I may not be able to comfort them myself, but my words may aid and soothe them."_

"My Lord?" Cirulian called gently. Elrond blinked at the change in scene and realized he was in the garden. He shivered, although the sun was warm. The Teler, who had known him since the first age, suddenly stepped closer in concern. "Perhaps a bit of lunch and a healing draught would do you well too." He prompted Elrond to stand.

"Perhaps, though after lunch I think I will check the storage rooms. I think that is where some of Celebrian's belongings ended up."

_Xxxxxxxx Halls of Healing xxxxxxxxxxX_

"They are doing well." Silsilalda smiled at the Elrohir, who would soon be the primary director and administrator for Imladris' new program for apprentice healers. The past few weeks had featured non-stop discussions and planning for the healers of men. Men were a misnomer, for they had designed a special training for midwives, who were generally women. Silsilalda perceived his thoughts. "I am still baffled by the customs and cultures of men."

"The customs in Gondor are different than ours, it is true; however, customs in Harad and Rohan are different still. It is indeed bewildering to try to keep them straight.

"You are well suited for that role." Silsilalda praised. There was little time left for the transition of leadership. The Galadrim were due to arrive. "Although I know these roles have been a big departure from your earlier endeavors."

"I had never experienced war on that level." Elrohir divulged. "Then for my paltry skills to be at such a premium both after battles and later in Minas Tirith…" Elrohir shuddered.

"Now perhaps you understand why your Adar left that aspect of his duties to focus on healing and administration of the valley after the Last Alliance."

"Yes, I have a very different view of his actions now, given our new experiences, than I had just a few hundred years ago."

"Your healing skills have grown much in these past few years. Time and experience mold and change us.

"But our essence does not change."

"My Lord?" Coldol interrupted them. The elf was out of breath. "Your Adar."

"Where is he?"

"Cirulian summons you to the storage rooms." Silsi and Elrohir were startled. Elrond's health had been a worry for them since the war ended.

"Go Elrohir. I will come with a draught." Silsi doubted that the Peredhel had even heard her as he ran off. Luckily, the storage rooms were on the side of the house that faced the healing halls. Thus, it was not long before Elrohir entered, scanning among the boxes and trunks for his father.

"When did this happen?" Elrohir asked quickly as he bent down to where Cirulian sat with Elrond. They were crouched next to a keepsake trunk made from lightning pine. It was Naneth's, Elrohir realized.

"I sent word as soon as I realized something was amiss." The guard answered.

"How long?" Elrohir repeated as he began to assess his Adar.

"Ten minutes, maybe more."

"Was he doing anything strenuous?"

"No, we were just sitting here going through the contents of the trunk." Cirulian's answer just made Elrohir more worried, for Elrond was pale and perspiring – a cold sweat, he realized, and perhaps shock. He could feel pain radiating from his Adar's chest and up to his jaw. His breathing was shallow and fast. The wind curled around them as if seeking something.

"Shut the door." Elrohir ordered as he remembered another incident with the wind. He grasped his father's hands firmly. "Adar!" he called as he tried to reach out to his father's spirit. He sensed pain and deep sorrow but no recognition.

"Elrond, heed my voice and come back to me." Elrohir commanded as he channeled all his concentration and power. His voice rang with authority. The cloudy silver eyes met his own. Through these mirrors to the soul, he heard the disparate songs of his father's spirit. Each melody had its own rhythm, which battled against the others. Their disparate songs sparked a dismaying realization for Elrohir. His Adar's spirit was gravely wounded. Little wonder he was not staying to meet his grandchildren or watch them develop, for there was no chance he would survive long enough in these lands to greet them. Clarity and recognition suddenly solidified in the elder Peredhel's eyes.

"Welcome back Adar." Elrohir smiled soothingly but did not release his father's hands, though Elrond clearly tried to evade his hold.

"Adar, allow me to aid you." Elrohir stated while directing his healing gently towards his father. The dismay and realization, which crossed the silver eyes, almost undid Elrohir. It was clear that his Adar understood his predicament. Elrohir leaned forward to kiss his Adar on the brow.

"I love you Adar. I will miss you."

"It is my time." Elrond whispered.

"Yes, it is time to seek healing in the west." Elrohir agreed, though he kept his hold on his father's hands.

"Your Naneth would have wanted Arwen to have these journals from when we were but new parents." Elrond motioned with their joint hands to a case that held three scrolls.

"They must be very fragile." Elrohir surmised.

"Yes, they will not survive many readings. But Arwen, I think, will appreciate them."


	3. Chapter 3 Taking leave of Imladris

_Xxxxxxxxx Summer Solstice 3021 end of the Third Age xxxxxxxxX_

Elladan and Elrohir stood handing out golden Calendula blossoms to the mixed line of elves and men. To many, this was their first time experiencing the ancient tradition. The new leaders of Imladris grinned as they helped the boys and girls display the traditional summer blossoms in their hair or pinned through button holes in their shirts. The line snaked along the large meadow and down towards the gardens.

"May we be of help my Lords?" Gwaefaer and her brother Eruingal bowed. Earlier in the morning was a public ceremony where Elrond had officially relinquished his duties to his sons.

"Please not so formal." Elladan begged.

"But we would be glad of your help." Elrohir added. Together, four of them helped speed the bestowing of the summer blossoms. The fortuitous blooms signified blessings of health throughout the year.

The Galadhrim were gathered on the far side of the lawn, where their Lady was explaining the Solstice traditions to those enjoying their first visit to the Last Homely House. Some were quick to join the line. Glorfindel watched Celeborn leave his Lady's side and come down to seek refreshments. The silver Lord poured two glasses of the summer wine. But Glorfindel stepped forward before the elf had put down the bottle and smoothly grabbed one of the two newly filled glasses.

"Thank you. That was most gracious of you Lord Celeborn." He smiled, raised his glass, then sipped contentedly.

"Little wonder Mandos threw you back." Celeborn returned amiably as he shook his head. Only inside did he let his annoyance show, which prompted his dear wife to gift him her laughter mind-to-mind. "_Tis his charm that prompts Elrond to keep him around."_ Her melodious voice intoned. Then he said aloud to the cheeky elf beside him. "I am surprised you have decided to remain. I believed that you would depart with Elrond."

"Some of Turgon's line yet remains among elves." Glorfindel stated simply. Elladan and Elrohir had yet to state their choice. "Your arrival was long overdue. We were worried your Lady and your people had changed their minds about sailing."

"Lothlórien was loathed to release _my Lady_." Celeborn intoned cryptically. Glorfindel looked back to where the ethereal golden lady stood among her people.

"Lothlórien." Glorfindel repeated as understanding dawned in his eyes. "Yet the power of the rings faded when the One was destroyed."

"Celembrior's rings had an unnatural connection over their respective elements. It is true their power faded. Yet they forged strong connections between their bearers and the environment. Lothlórien continued to draw through the ring." Celeborn paused to sip at the wine. His cool words betrayed none of the horror of watching his wife slowly fade as the land siphoned her essence or of the shock and pain when she passed through the borders of their land. Of this, he vowed, never to speak. "Imladris still retains some protections as well as its fabled welcoming and rejuvenating air. Can you not sense its origin?"

Glorfindel closed his eyes and focused on their surroundings. He did not sense the dominating aura that was Vilya. That had always been easy for him to detect, trained as he was to note its metallic twang. Yet, there was a subtle power, which gently nurtured life here, be it plants, animals or people. Celeborn's voice startled him. "You sense it. Much more subtle than his ancestor's renown curtain and focused on the direct well-being of the inhabitants not as much on strategic barriers for that is beyond his power. I think it has always been his way whether he knows it or not. Yet, the strengthened connection gave him new ideas and greater skill to directed this gift."

"What will happen?" Glorfindel now worried for his dear friend.

"I can not say." Celeborn shrugged. "But it would be prudent to stay close." Glorfindel tipped his head in both acknowledgement and parting, and then followed the path down to where Elrond moved among his folk. The Peredhel was talking to a large family, whom Glorfindel recognized as Anorlach and four generations of his kin. The elf was once a soldier during the last alliance but had settled down as a farmer in Imladris. Elrond was greeting the newest of Anorlach's descendents, a new great granddaughter, who was only a few summers old. Her older sister was barely passed her majority. The Peredhel laughed and moved to take off his circlet, handing it to the awe struck child who held it with glee. Before Glorfindel could approach Elrond, Lindir stepped forward and bowed to their Lord.

"I am no longer Lord of the valley." Elrond reminded him. "I am now just a simple traveler going west."

"I would be hard pressed to call you a simple traveler, my Lord." Lindir smiled and Anorlach concurred as his granddaughter handed Elrond back the circlet with words of thanks. "But a little bird told me that you very much enjoyed joining the musicians, and that is something that you have not done in an age. Forgive me if I am too bold, but I doubt you will have much chance to enjoy such things in the West, for you may have other responsibilities and duties there. Would you like to join us?" Elrond looked momentarily stunned.

"Who told you? One of my councilors?" Elrond asked, but Lindir merely shrugged. "I have no instrument."

"This one was sent to my group to be packed with the other instruments for the journey west." He held out a silver harp. "I was intrigued, never having seen it before, and took the liberty of restringing and tuning it. I know you packed the other instruments and many gifts for your family in Gondor. But if rumors are to be believed, this belongs to you." Elrond reached over to the instrument.

"Aye, it is mine, a gift from Gil-Galad." Elrond said softly as he accepted the instrument.

"Is it true that you played in a group in Mithlond?"

"That he can neither confirm nor deny." Glorfindel laughed. "Go join them Elrond. It is a fitting way to bid farewell to the valley." The Peredhel indeed followed Lindir to the Gazebo where the musicians were just gathering. If the ensemble was surprised by the addition of their Lord, they did not show it and quickly welcomed him into the group. It was easy to see that Elrond enjoyed the warm up time. They rearranged the songs they were planning on performing to put melodies that Elrond was familiar with into the first set. Glorfindel watched over his charge with delight. Indeed, when Elladan approached to ask for his Adar, he was proud to point out the harpist in the back row, who swayed slightly in time to the music as his cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"He played in private for us when we were very small. I did not know that he enjoyed performing."

"Your Adar and Gil-Galad would sneak out in disguise in Mithlond. Unknowingly, I enjoyed their performances several times." Glorfindel was happy to divulge. After the first set, Elrond thanked the other musicians and took his leave, setting his harp down to collect later. Glorfindel was quick to greet him and to offer him a glass of wine.

"You should take it with you on the journey. A song always brightens the spirit." Glorfindel suggested. "Besides, I doubt carrying an extra small harp would be much of a burden for your steed." Elrond paused as he sipped his wine.

"I shall follow your wise advice." Elrond smiled as Glorfindel nearly choked on his drink.

"You will have to repeat that to your sons!" As the hours pasted, the musical repertoire included more songs, which drew the inhabitants to dance. Galadhrim tunes, Dúnedain dances and traditional songs of the valley drew different groups in and out of the circle to dance and sing. Musicians from Lothlórien took up their instruments, first striking up the syncopated beat of the Lithir. For a time, the ellyth of Lothlórien took over the circle. The swish of their skirts augmented the beat of the ancient dance, while ellon stood by mesmerized and edain looked on enchanted. Perhaps this would be the last Solstice where elves outnumbered men, for times were changing. Departure was but days away. Bredeli and Anhen rang the bells to gather the younger children and escort them back to the Great Hall for stories and song and finally bed. It was a fond memory of childhood to gather for the celebration. The adults celebrated until far after midnight.

_Xxxxxxxxx Several days later xxxxxxxxxX_

Dawn crept slowly over the sheets, illuminating her spun gold hair. Her eyes were closed in exhaustion, a sight far too common this last year. He smoothed a wayward golden strand away from her cheek and kissed her lightly. She sighed at his touch but did not wake. He nearly woke her for their time together was at an end. Every stolen moment was precious. They had basked in each other's love last night. Three ages of this world was not enough – could never be long enough time to spend with her. They had been parted at times over the years. But always they felt the strength of their shared connection. The journey west would break that bond.

"_We should not have returned to Lothlórien after the wedding. We might have had a few years more." _He lamented. Her songs of power had helped to reduce the remaining ruins of Dol Goldur to rubble. Even Thranduil produced words of praise for Galadriel at that momentous accomplishment. But he could feel what it had cost her spirit. While he supported her all he could through their bond, the effort had drained precious pieces of her soul. Then with the ring's power nearly gone, the connection to Lothlórien siphoned yet further strength from her very essence as the sea longing surged to desperate heights. To stay in these lands was but a death sentence to her. Change was coming to Lothlórien. Plants had grown dependent on the power on Nenya and would slowly die, giving way to nature's everlasting cycle, which would replenish the woods with new growth. It would be the same here in Imladris, though few here cared to acknowledge it.

"_Beloved." _Her voice sang in his mind. He bent to brush a kiss across her swollen lips, a consequence of their prior activities. A smile lit on his lips as he felt her desire. _"Is there time?"_

"We will find time and privacy on the road and later in Mithlond, I think." He whispered against her lips before delving in for a prolonged kiss. Her eyes closed in bliss as he wrapped his spirit around hers. He could fill the holes in her spirit and support her for a time, but that time was fast waning. Her ran his hands over her glorious face then down her neck and along her exquisite frame then followed the same path with his lips. Such precious minutes left!

Xxxxxxxx

Elrohir watched the procession across the Bruinen. He planned to ride at the rear with Silsilalda and Bilbo. His was suddenly aware that many eyes were focused on the Bruinen. He realized it was father's horse crossing the river with Elrond shimmering on its back. The wind whipped his grey coat and dark hair while the water frothed upwards. Celthúl seemed caught, his front legs dangling in the air as if he was frozen for a minute like a statue. He heard a low whisper from his Adar, and it was as if a dam broke and power like water flowed in a burst of bright white followed with a tinge of blue. Wind and water calmed suddenly. Had he imagined a chorus of cries? Gasps from others told him it could not be just his imagination. Astonishment kept him rooted to a spot. But Glorfindel and Cirulian seemed to have anticipated the event. They now surrounded Elrond, who seemed a ghost, pale and translucent in the bright sunlight but for his short stifled groans. Celeborn called out reassuringly, bidding the company to keep moving. Light glinted off golden hair as Galadriel disappeared around the bend.

"Adar?" Elrohir wanted to guide his horse back, but the path was too narrow to pull beside them.

"He needs time to recover Elrohir." Glorfindel whispered. "It is good that your brother agreed to remain. The special protections of the valley will fade."

"I do not understand." Elrohir was stunned. He thought the protections had been slowly fading since Frodo's accomplishment.

"Later." Cirulian grumbled, a sure signal that the conversation was over. The Teler spoke softly to Elrond's steed. Celthúl, though fast like his namesake, was quite different in that he was well trained. In fact, both Cirulian and Glorfindel took pains to train him once they realized that Elrond was at times too weary to control the fiery steed. The three riders continued forward.

"Ride with us Elrohir." Erestor, his wife Gwidian, and Bilbo splashed across the Bruinen.

"I packed some Aurcram and cream. Do you think we might stop for a second breakfast?" Bilbo was asking Erestor. The hobbit rode a grey pony.

"How did you know that those are Adar's favorite?" Elrohir smiled as Bilbo's brow furl in concentration. The hobbit was obviously calculating if he had packed enough to share with so many elves. "Fear not, Master Baggins, I am not given to second breakfasts. But I would be much obliged if you offered one to my Father later. You might succeed in coaxing a smile from him."

"Of course, my dear Elrohir! I should be glad to be of service." Bilbo was obviously enthused at the prospect. "I wonder if any of my dwarven friends would have believed that I could be of service to the Lord of Imladris."

"I am sure they are smiling down at us now." Gwidian commented. Erestor gave her a thankful look. They were also leaving their children in Imladris. Gwidian's parents numbered among the Avari and never thought to travel west. She was a bit apprehensive about what type of welcome awaited her in those lands.

"It was good of you to come with us." Erestor said softly to Elrohir. "I know that your Adar appreciates it. It is hard for him to leave."

"Elladan and I thought it would be better if at least one of us traveled with him to the haven." Earlier that morning Elrond and Elladan said their farewells. It was made more difficult by the fact that neither knew if they would ever see each other again, for their choice was not yet made. Elrohir thought back on his Adar's words from that morning. _"Please know that I am very proud of you. I know you will chose with wisdom and grace. In the end, you must be content with yourselves and with your choice." _

"Did you know what would happen when Adar left the valley?"

"Celeborn warned us. I can only assume that Galadriel experienced something similar when the connection between Lothlórien and Nenya was broken." Erestor's voice was low. But it was liberating to talk about the rings openly. For millennia it had been forbidden. "And no, I do not think you should ask her directly." In response, Elrohir held he his hand over his heart and protested.

"Erestor! I am shocked that you think I am not diplomatic! You and Adar trained me yourselves." His eyes though glinted mischievously.

"I did not say anything of the sort. However, I doubt that you will use your diplomatic words with your Grandmother."

Elrohir did not get to exchange words with his Grandparents that morning. The light lengthened and blossomed into noon as the road meandered down through the hilly terrain. Sometimes the path kept them moving in single file, though their numbers meant that the line went on for more than a mile. Small clearings gave riders chance to pause while others passed. To his chagrin, Cirulian waved him on past where Glorfindel was tending to Adar. It was nearing noon when the company halted in a wider meadow. Small fired had already been started by the time the last of their numbers drew close. Galadriel and Celeborn spoke to the former council of Lothlórien. Lord Angon, the former Seneschal spoke softly to Haldir the March warden. What life awaited them all in the West, he wondered? Would his Adar even survive the journey over seas?

His Daernaneth suddenly looked up, meeting his eyes steadily. _"Hope" Her voice intoned directly in his mind. "We have hope that life continues in the west that healing may be found there and eventually joy. Go to him. He needs you. He needs time to recover. I will keep others away." _

Elrohir turned back to see his Adar dismounting. Celthúl was already nuzzling his master's hair, obviously looking for his prize. Elrond did not disappoint. He pulled an apple from the saddlebag and offered it to Celthúl with words of praise and thanks. One of the squires came forward to help Elrond, who seemed surprised by the gesture. The elf led the contented stallion away for a drink, while Elrond somewhat dazed, scanned the meadow. Elrohir suddenly realized what he was looking.

"Over here Adar." He smiled and was exceedingly pleased to see his Adar smile in return. "There is a great oak at the far end of the meadow, which has a soothing song. Elrohir grasped his Adar's shoulder as they walked across the bustling field. Elves parted before them. Many stepped forward with words of thanks and admiration to their beloved Lord. Previously, only a chosen few had known of Vilya and the great burden carried by their Lord; however, the rumors had abounded about the origins of Imladris' special protections. Now, with the events of the morning, it was common knowledge.

"Are you in pain Adar?" Elrohir whispered.

"Do not worry Elrohir." Elrond waved his depreciatingly. "I have been through worse."

"That does not make me feel any better, Ada." Elrohir caught his breath as he caught sight of the glinting sapphire, which was now plain to see on his Adar's hand. The exquisite white stone of Nenya set in mithril had been visible on Daernaneth's finger since she had first entered Imladris weeks ago. Would Mithrandir's ruby ring of fire also soon be visible?

"How did Bilbo fair on the journey?" Elrond looked around but could not see the hobbit.

"Remarkably well, although he would have preferred a stop for a second breakfast. Over the last half hour he was being to tire."

"That is to be expected. Perhaps I should go tend to him." They had paused by the base of the oak tree.

"Mithrandir was with him. Let us sit down and rest." Elrohir suggested as he gently pulled his Adar to sit beside him. "I think they will join us shortly. I let slip that vanilla Aurcram are your favorite. He was worried that he did not pack enough to share." Elrond smiled slightly and shook his head. His eyes closed as he leaned back against the sympathetic oak's trunk.

"Thank you ion-nin." Elrond whispered, although Elrohir doubted that the thanks were for his words to Bilbo. He heard the tree's song echo against the strains of a far older melody in his mind. The congruent tunes were filled with disparate emotions. He heard both joy and sorrow. Some voices were aggressive while others were nurturing. He felt a power surround them and could detect how his father's spirit mixed and drew aid from the tunes. He nearly gasped when Glorfindel grabbed his hand. It was as if the golden elf could see through him to lay the depths of his soul open.

"You sense it." Glorfindel's words would have confused anyone standing near. But Elrohir merely nodded in conformation and wonder that the Vanya understood exactly what he felt. Elrond, though, appeared to be deeply asleep.

"What is this music?"

"The songs of the Maiar are woven into the echoes of the _Ainulindalë_." Glorfindel paused.

"You hear it too?" Elrohir stuttered.

"Not like you. For I am but a simple elf," Glorfindel paused at Elrohir's snort of disbelief, "though I have the advantage of having been trained by the Maiar. But you, from the line of Melian, have a drop of kinship with those that sung the _Ainulindalë. _Arwen's Maiar heritage awoke in Lothlórien several hundred years old. Perhaps, you will go through something similar._"_

"Adar helped her deal with the changes then." Elrohir paused, leaving his concern unspoken. Glorfindel understood clearly enough.

"No, your Adar can clearly not stay. But the Avari who helped him remain in these lands as well as Radagast the Brown."

"Why now?" Elrohir wondered pushing from his mind that he somehow shared some sort of kinship with the unusual wizard from the Greenwood. Instinctively, he scanned the meadow for the brilliant white light of Mithrandir. The white wizard's hat could be seen over by where the cooks were. Obviously, the Istar had found Bilbo, although the hobbits short stature meant he was easily hidden in the crowd of elves.

"Your uncle sought help at the sea. Ossë and Uinen aided him, though they are a strange couple to say the least." Glorfindel shivered at the memory. They quietly contemplated the possibilities until Erestor, Gwidian, and Silsilalda came carrying a covered dish and bowls with lunch. It was a simple soup, bountiful with the summer vegetables. Silsi also carried a steaming draught, obviously prepared for Elrond. The healer bent to assess the weary Peredhel. He stirred slowly and then accepted the tea.

"Did Celeborn say how long it took for the Lady to recover after they left Lothlórien?" Glorfindel asked. Elrohir brow furled as he realized he had been intentionally kept unaware. Erestor waved his hands.

"He was vague and most unhelpful only noting that Elrond should be recovered before we reach Breeland."

"Bree?" Elrohir whistled. "That it yet some days off."

"We are progressing as planned. We will be in Mithlond with a week or two to spare." Erestor predicted.

"I do not understand what is so important about sailing with the first tides of autumn." Gwidian asked.

"The favorable tides and winds will take several weeks off our journey." Glorfindel answered. "That can make a big difference as each ship can only carry so much clean water and food."

"How long does the journey take?"

"My only trip has been east." Glorfindel was ever the enigma. "You will have to write to tell me how long it takes."

"Cirdan estimated it might be fifty days or more." They all jumped at Elrond's soft voice. "I hope ships have improved and are better able to handle storms than during my last experience."

"That was nearly two ages ago!" Erestor teased. "Though you told me to remind you of that experience whenever you contemplated leaving." Gwidian uncovered a plate, which had a few slices of cheese and rich brown bread and fruit. She handed it to Elrohir, who offered it to his Adar. Elrond always preferred simple foods under stress, and picked a ripe strawberry from the plate. Elrohir smiled, having correctly predicted his Adar's choice.

"Now, I wish to forget so that I will indeed willingly step onto one of Cirdan's vessels." Elrond said quietly though his eyes flickered with mirth. Elrohir felt his fear and worry ease a bit. This circle of loyal friends was but a small percentage of the elves here who cared deeply for his Adar. They would care for him on the journey west.


	4. Chapter 4 Travels through the Trollshaws

"The scouts report all seems well ahead." Haldir bowed.

"They spotted no signs of orcs or wolves?" Celeborn probed further. Haldir paused.

"The wolves appeared to have veered off to the northwest. Perhaps they seek refuge in the Weatherhills. Given our numbers it is wise for them seek safer ground. You wish yet to ride in front?"

"Yes, that is indeed our wish." Galadriel glided forward to stand next to her husband. Haldir bowed.

"Then Rúmil and Orophin will provide your escort. I will organize the other guards and disperse them evenly around our company."

"And you will take the rear guard." Celeborn predicted. Haldir nodded, then further asked. "Is there anything else my Lady?"

"Please inform Mithrandir that we will soon depart. It may be wise to arrange an escort for him and Master Baggins."

"As you wish my Lady." Haldir bowed and walked towards where the wizard had last been seen.

"He was not pleased." Celeborn pulled her closer.

"He should have been more diplomatic last time. Mithrandir might deny himself, but he would never deny Master Baggins." Galadriel's tone did not betray her mirth, but her eyes twinkled. "The Bruinen Gorges are beautiful this time of year." Celeborn laughed and brushed her lips in a gentle kiss. The paths through the gorges had indeed been breathtaking, painted as they were with summer foliage. But the trollshaws might still hold danger. Haldir, though, was fully capable of managing their company.

"Not as beautiful as you Meleth."

As fast as the elves had set up for lunch, so quickly did the cleanup with many hands working in tandem to make short work of the chores. The fires had been kindled with a minimum number of sticks carefully gathered for their size. They had all burned to ash in the meantime. The smoldering ashes were doused with water to make sure the fire was completely out. Bilbo watched the scene from a discrete distance, where he and Gandalf enjoyed their pipes. He was sure that soon someone would disperse the ashes. There would be little signs left behind of the elves stop here.

"Once they set their minds to things, elves are remarkably hasty." Gandalf smiled as he used a word the Ents favored to describe most other races. Only Pippin and Merry would fully appreciate his line of thought. Bilbo blew a perfect smoke ring, smiling brightly as it rose above Gandalf's head. Gandalf sent smaller ones up that mingled with Bilbo's forming interlocking rings.

"They will hesitate to disturb or hurry us." Bilbo predicted amiably. "I have yet to meet an elf who does not frown at the sight of my pipe."

"It is a good method to procure a moments peace and privacy. I will miss the habit in the West."

"Elrond had to intervene for me to pack a supply of pipe weed for the journey. The farmers took offense at having the dried leaves near their supplies."

"Did they indeed?" Gandalf smiled, then took a deep draught from his pipe and slowly exhaled.

"Erestor stored seeds to grow my own supply in the west." Bilbo openly admired the catenated ring, which the wizard conjured.

"That was no hardship. The seeds are the size of a pin prick."

"Mithrandir!" Haldir called having stopped some fifteen feet from them.

"It is polite to come closer when you wish to speak to someone." Mithrandir instructed calmly, while Bilbo valiantly tried not to laugh. They were both keenly aware of the March warden's disgust of their pipes.

"We are breaking camp now. Do you wish to have an escort remain for you?"

"I think we can find our way." Bilbo replied, having recognized the wicked gleam that surfaced momentarily in the wizard's eye. Haldir looked greatly relieved. "How far are we planning yet to travel today?"

"This fair weather makes for fine travel. If it would not tire you too much, little Master, we plan on riding for four hours more." Haldir waited. In truth Bilbo had already had enough travel for one day, but he hardly felt that he could say so.

"My companion and I will set a more leisurely pace." Gandalf stated as he took another puff of his pipe. "You may trust me to keep him safe." Haldir bowed and wished them well. For their part, Bilbo and Gandalf sat watching the elves pack and get ready. The Galadhrim departed first. Indeed, Galadriel and Celeborn both acknowledged the pair as they led their people forward.

"Take care friends." Celeborn called. His wife held each of them in her gaze, gifting them blessings of good will in their minds. They watched as the rest of the Galadhrim passed. Behind them the Imladhrim were already assembling. Gandalf observed the Lords of Imladris from a distance. Elrohir appeared to be walking towards them, but then paused. Even from this distance Gandalf could sense the foul work of the black breath.

"The Elrond and his sons will need watching over." He commented to himself as he leaned forward to stand up but halted as he spied a familiar figure approaching Elrohir.

_Xxxxxxx Across the way xxxxxxxX_

_A bleak fog covered the field. The battle was over, yet the mist cloying. It clogged the lungs as if it were suffocating those who could still draw breath. Estel was kneeling over someone. _

"_Halbarad! Grievous are our losses today." Elrohir breathed. _

"_It should have been you Peredhel." One of the Dúnedain stood and turned towards him. His sharp sword unsheathed. "You and your brother led us from our homes. So many dead, yet the foul spawn of Thunder remain unscathed." He felt blackness engulf him as the Dúnedain's blade pricked his chest. "I will remedy that."_

Elrohir! Come back to me." His Adar's voice was firm and held a power that was not to be denied. Their songs mingled, dissipating the darkness, and his soul brightened. He was staring into silver eyes that were darkened in concern as they both slid down to sit upon the ground. "Elrohir you said that the black breath no longer plagued you."

"I am fine Adar." Elrohir shook his head as if he could just as easily shake away the trembling of his heart. "Just once in a while. The last weeks have been too busy for meditation."

"Does Elladan also experience such episodes?" The silver eyes were far too perceptive.

"Nay, not as far as I am aware." Elrohir looked away as he admitted. "It would take more than a few battles to unsettle Elladan." Elrond gently stroked his son's cheek.

"Do not belittle yourself ion-nin. No one remains unscathed or unchanged by such experiences. We each have to be watchful to protect our friends from the aftermath of war. You gave more of yourself to heal others after these momentous battles. How many times did both you and Estel share of your own spirits?" Elrohir felt his jaw drop in surprise at the revelation. "Do not fear for Estel, for he has Arwen to care for him and help him heal. Your spirit is not meant to be cut off from others or to suffer alone."

"Adar?" Elrohir had not discussed the strange music he could recently perceive. Did his Adar suspect?

"Perhaps this awakening of your heritage is no coincidence. It will help you heal. Although I have met few in their true form, the Maiar are tied to each other through their songs. I will teach you to listen for it, as much as I can." His voice trailed off wearily and he amended. "Once we stop for the evening."

"You are far from well, Adar. Do not tax yourself." Elrohir protested. "It can wait for a few days.

"There are few days remaining for me to help." Elrond squeezed his hand in return. "Tonight, we can listen for the music together." Elrohir could feel the slightest of tremors go through his Adar, who appeared far too pale. As he was assessing his Adar's condition, Cirulian gave a signal for the first of their party to depart.

"We are to be on our way now." Elrohir helped his father up. Glorfindel was leading their horses over.

"Do you carry Athelas in your saddle bag?" His Adar was ever vigilant of others health and well-being, but his approach to his own health was much more cavalier. _"Like Father like son." _Elrohir smiled at the irony.

"Yes, Adar." Elrohir had an idea. "I will use it."

"Elrond, you are weary. Please ride with me." Glorfindel drew up, obviously prepared for an argument from the prickly Peredhel. He was surprised when Elrohir chimed in.

"Yes, ride with Glorfindel. Then you can rest and save your strength to guide me tonight." Elrohir reasoned quietly. Elrond gazed from his son to his Seneschal and begrudgingly acquiesced to their will.

"I admit, I am weary." He voice was low. Glorfindel smiled and pulled him up to sit behind him on Asfaloth.

"You are entitled to rest Mellon-nin."

_Xxxxxx Miles ahead xxxxxxxX_

"Men will inhabit these lands again. The rivers will carry their goods far down the greyflood to trade." Celeborn saw glimpses of their future settlements as they journeyed through the trollshaws.

"What do you see Meleth?" Galadriel turned to him in surprise. Since leaving Lothlorien, she could see little of the future. Although she rested much, with each day what new strength she had seeped away like water flowing down the falls. But her rock, her ever-steady silver tree, was not diminished. He turned to her, and it seemed for a moment they were back in Doriath. His eyes glinted with purpose as her own heart twisted with a mixture of admiration, guilt, and not a little jealousy.

"You hear a call." She realized. Her own spirit heard nothing but the relentless pounding of the sea.

"Different than yours. You are summoned west for healing, Meleth." His words were gentle but still they hurt. "I would not willingly leave your side, but my duty here is not yet finished. Of that, I have never been more sure." She felt his spirit surge towards her with a strength and love she had never needed more.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

When the path permitted, Cirulian rode along side Glorfindel. Otherwise, he rode behind them, keeping ever-watchful eyes on their Lord. Elrond was seated behind the golden warrior, his arm wrapped around Glorfindel's waist; however, his head was bent, resting near the warrior's shoulder.

"Your charge is sleeping." Cirulian pulled aside them.

"Celeborn warned us that breaking his connection with the valley would be difficult. But my heart nearly froze during those last moments when he was crossing the Bruinen."

"Should we send word to prepare a tent and healing draughts for him?"

"They are well-aware of what will be needed for the next week until his spirit regains some strength."

"What difficulty is Elrohir having?"

"He is coming into his heritage as a descendant of Melian." Glorfindel divulged. Cirulian was well aware of how difficult that had been for Elrond and his brother.

"Now?" His voice rose in volume betraying his worry. Elrond stirred mumbling incoherently in his sleep.

"Rest Mellon-nin." Glorfindel soothed then started to sing. Cirulian had the grace to look embarrassed before joining in the soothing song to Elbereth.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

Marchwarden Haldir was in charge of security for this week. Cirulian and Glorfindel would alternate in these duties as their large party approached Bree, perhaps in a week's time. Thus, the Galadhrim traveled first, before those from Imladris broke camp, and they chose the new campsite each afternoon. Haldir scanned the vicinity. Orophin was on the far side of the open meadow currently guarding their Lord and Lady, the cooks were already unpacking near the river, and tents were being erected on the opposite side. Haldir turned to focus on his warriors, newly assembled, and assigned the perimeter guards, and divided up the night watch. Only these tasks were complete, and the others dismissed, did he turn to his brother Rúmil, whom he had asked to remain.

"Please tell me you are not just staying only because of me." Haldir asked pointedly. His brother stood silent, obviously contemplating his next words.

"I have overheard you and Orophin at times talking to others about their reasons for sailing. Forgive me, brother, I have given my word to stay with Lord Celeborn, but I did not mean to speak for you."

"It is interesting to hear how others came to this decision. Everyone, except for our Lady has been born in these lands. This is our home. So to give it up for something totally unknown," Rúmil paused before adding. "No matter what rumors and legends say, it is for us an unknown. To give up our home is far from easy."

"Yet our home is already gone, already fading. We will have to make a new home in any case." Haldir reasoned. "Change is unavoidable."

"There is no one waiting for us in the west. When we go, we would like to travel together on this new adventure. At least, I hope you will want to go some day. Orophin and I want to go when you are ready. You do mean to share that adventure with us?" Rúmil suddenly sounded far younger than his millennium. Haldir had cared for and helped raise his brothers after their parents had died at the hands of orcs. Little wonder that the three brothers dedicated their lives to keeping people safe.

"Yes, we will go together when the time is right." Haldir promised.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"Elrond, wake up mellon-nin, we draw close to our night's camp." Glorfindel gently jostled the Peredhel who leaned sleepily against him. He was mindful that their Lord would not want others to know just how weary he was. Cirulian helped steady him as he dismounted. Celthúl whinnied a greeting and moved to nuzzle his master. Elrond laughed and stroked his mane affectionately.

"How are you feeling Adar?" Elrohir maneuvered his steed closer. Behind them, Erestor and Gwidian were just catching up. About a third of the party from Imladris was still following.

"Still weary but much better than earlier." His Adar smiled wryly at Elrohir's obvious concern. "Riding Celthúl a few miles to our camp is no problem." The stallion swished his tail in agreement as Elrond mounted.

"Do not worry Elrohir. I am sure that your Daernaneth will make sure they save you some dinner." Glorfindel teased. "I will not tell Cook that you prefer the Galadhrim's cooking."

"Is that a threat? If so, I may order you to sail." Elrohir returned. "For my meals in Imladris would quickly deteriorate should Carfaron take offense." Imladris' cook had decided to stay on at least for the foreseeable future. The eccentric elf was convinced that none of the Edain could care adequately for the Elrond's sons.

"I am bound to serve." Glorfindel mocked as he urged Asfaloth forward. "Besides I am yet too young to sail west, unlike your Adar."

"You are older than I am no matter how you count." Elrond shook his head as his son laughed. It was a standing joke among them. When they were small, the twins had been convinced that the spry bright Vanya was much closer to their age versus their old responsibility laden father's age. They traveled the last two miles exchanging jests and jokes. The rich aroma of an evening stew beaconed them forward.

"I do believe Bilbo will be pleased." Elrohir commented as his own stomach growled greedily. Haldir waved their group to the far side of the meadow.

"Lady Galadriel has your tent already pitched, Lord Elrond." Elrond thanked him as he and Elrohir dismounted. Celthúl was already sniffing Elrond's tunic for a treat and happily accepted the offered carrot. Cirulian came forward to care for their steeds.

"Rest well my Lord." He bowed and led the horses away. Haldir greeted the long line of travelers and directed each to appropriate spots around the meadow. Horses were led over to a grassy area, brushed down and fed. The last to arrive this day was a small hobbit on a grey pony.

"Where is Gandalf?" Haldir approached the Hobbit. The scouts caused quite a stir when they reported seeing the hobbit traveling alone. Haldir set right out on his steed to escort him.

"He left," Bilbo frowned then continued, "a half hour or so ago. But fear not, I am capable of defending myself." He motioned to his side, which held an elven short sword. He gifted his famous sword 'Sting' years ago to Frodo.

"Does he intend to return?" Haldir pressed him.

"A wizard arrives exactly when he means to." Bilbo responded automatically, obviously having heard the response many times from Gandalf himself. Haldir laughed.

"Far be it from us to delve into the mighty plans of wizards!" Haldir exclaimed. "Come Master Hobbit, I do believe you will enjoy dinner. Our cook has grilled some succulent mushrooms just for you and there is a fine stew as well."

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

Elrohir helped his Adar get settled in the tent. Silsi brought a healing draught, a mixture of milkweed and oleander extracts that appeared effective at controlling the chest pains and heart arrhythmia that had plagued Elrond since Sauron's defeat.

"Are you sure that you do not want to eat something Adar?" Elrohir asked in concern.

"Do not worry, ion-nin. I ate a big meal at mid-day." Elrond yawned. "Enjoy the evening."

"I will." Elrohir laughed and strolled out to where others were gathering for dinner. Lindir had already gathered a handful of musicians. Friends waved Elrohir over. Areder had turned from the life of a warrior to train as a healer. He was younger than Elrohir but was sailing west with sweetheart Liniel. They had recently plighted their troth.

"To new adventures!" Areder toasted. Those gathered raised their glass to cheer.

"I wonder what it will be like there?" Liniel swirled the wine in her cup.

"We will have to see for ourselves. For less than a handful of elves here have ever seen those shores." Erestor approached and sat down next to Elrohir, for he meant to ask after Elrond's health.

"Surely, you must have seen those lands!" Elrohir teased. His tone implied Erestor's great age.

"Nay, I was born in these lands as you well know. I hope we receive a warm welcome and see at least a few familiar faces."

"Who will you be looking for?" Elrohir asked with genuine interest.

"Many friends and loved ones have long since passed to Mandos' Hall. It is my hope that they are alive and well and are enjoying life on the western shores. But Niphredriel, my Naneth, sailed some time ago. I do not think you met her during your first visit to Mithlond." Elrohir shock his head. He had not had the pleasure of meeting the ancient councilor's Mother.

"Do you think that Adar's parents will be there to welcome him?"

"I hope so. It is a shame that Glorfindel is not traveling with us, for he could introduce them."

"Adar does not remember them?" Elrohir had fond memories of Elrond describing the stars for them and pointing out Earendil's bright light.

"Your Adar was very young when Sirion fell. I do not believe that he has clear memories of them. I have known him along time and never once have I heard him talk about them."

"He was ever vigilant about us and our safety. It is strange to imagine him as a young orphan." Elrohir said sincerely. "What do my long lost grandparents look like?"

"Elwing was just a small child when I met her. So there is little chance that I would recognize her now." Erestor paused. His mind drew up the picture of the fay child with huge silver eyes on the beaches of Sirion. Her haunting words had scared him that day, so young had he been then. "She shares the same silver eyes as you and has hair as dark as Arwen's.

"Mistress Silsilalda," Areder turned to his mentor. "Are you also looking for family long departed?"

"Nay, she extended her hand to her children and their spouses. We are going to find a new purpose and new lives."

"Surely, there must be new lands to explore in peace and harmony." Her husband added.

"Will there be honey cakes? Maybe growing on trees?" Their granddaughter wished as she clamored up on her grandfather's lap. Elrohir laughed at the young elleth.

"Now that sounds like a land worth visiting."

_Xxxxxxx Dawn several days later xxxxxxxxX_

Elrohir yawned and stretched. His head ached, making him momentarily regret having stayed up so late. But so many friends were sailing and there was so little time left to enjoy their company. Soon his Adar would be sailing to healing and safety in the west. He sent a a silent preyer to Elbereth to keep his father safe and to help him through the long journey. Over the last few days, his Adar seemed to slowly regain some strength. Yesterday, he had rode Celthúl for the entire journey, though he had needed to seek his rest early in the evening. Still, it was an improvement.

"Good morning Adar." He called as he rubbed his eyes. The headache would dissipate quickly after a little willow bark tea. "Adar?" He sat up looking over to where his father's bedroll lay disheveled on the opposite side of the small tent. He scanned the tent, noting that his Adar's sword was no longer propped by the entrance. _"Curious,"_ he thought as he rose and gathered his clothes. He pulled on his tunic and brushed his hair. Like many others, he had bathed in the Hoarwell yesterday, thoroughly enjoying the river's cool temperatures after a long day's ride in the summer heat. They were camped near the last bridge after traveling four days from Imladris. He packed his bedroll and other supplies then went in search of food.

"Good morning Silsilalda. Have you seen Adar?" He approached the healer, who was finishing breakfast with her family. Her granddaughter was sitting next to her. The elfling rose to greet Elrohir, her head barely reaching to his waist.

"Mae govannen." She greeted with outstretched arms. He bent and lifted her high in the air, rejoicing in her cries of delight. Then placed her carefully back beside her Grandmother.

"No, I have not yet seen him. I was going to brew the healing draught for him once I finished breakfast. Have you checked with Erestor or with your Grandparents?"

"I will go see Erestor next." Elrohir agreed as he accepted a breakfast plate from the Galadhrim cook. "It looks delicious." He praised as his stomach rumbled at the smell of the omelette. He scanned the area, but did not see his father. So he made his way over to where Erestor, Gwidian, Lindir, Cirulian and Glorfindel were sitting with a group of Galadhrim.

"I enjoyed your playing yesterday. You outdid yourself Lindir. You must be tired after playing so late." Elrohir praised as he sat down next to them.

"You jest. I went to sleep early yesterday. It always takes me a week to get used to riding all day."

"Elrohir, it is early for you after a very late night. Perhaps you are not fully awake." Glorfindel teased. Elrohir shook his head and proceeded to have a bite of egg.

"No, I enjoyed the harp last night but did not see the player. I just assumed it was you." Elrohir had another bite then added. "This morning has already proved very confusing. First, Adar appears to be missing, then there is a phantom harpist."

"Your Adar has not been here." Erestor also scanned their surroundings. Cirulian abruptly rose and left to investigate.

"He did not decide to help with the watch, did he? Because he took his sword." Elrohir told them. Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged confused looks. Glorfindel closed his eyes to focus on his bond with Elrond. Their long friendship and great trust enable them to sometimes communicate across short distances. Until recently, Vilya had further enabled this ability.

"I can only tell that he is fine, but he is too engrossed in what ever he is doing to hear my call." Glorfindel turned to Elrohir. "Can you sense how far away he is?" As children they had finely tuned their ability to detect their parents' approach in an effort to further their mischief. As adults such abilities turned out to be quite useful. Elrohir first swallowed his bite then closed his eyes to focus on his family bond. It was many long moments before he slowly announced. "He is not nearby – not in the camp at least. Just how far away he is, I can not tell."

"Why would he leave the camp?" Erestor was on his feet instantly. Like Glorfindel, his thoughts were focused on finding Elrond. They had both sworn to stand by him until he sailed. Indeed, when they were very young, Erestor had searched unceasingly for Elrond in an orc-infested forest. Elrohir quickly finished his meal, and Lindir offered to take the plate. Celeborn and Cirulian were striding towards them.

"Celthúl is gone too." Cirulian reported.

"The watch did not see anyone come or go other than the scouts." Celeborn said. "He can not have gone far. Let us get our horses and go speak with Haldir."

"A wise course of action." Agreed Glorfindel, who was already striding away. They quickly summoned their horses and converged on Haldir, who was on the far side of the camp coordinating the watch and security.

"Haldir have the scouts reported anything unusual?" Glorfindel was leading Asfaloth forward. Erestor, Elrohir, Cirulian and Celeborn were not far behind with their own steeds. Haldir blinked in surprise at the illustrious group.

"The guards reported seeing two strangers behind us. But they were heading back towards the gorges."

"Did they provide any description?" Glorfindel inquired.

"One was dressed in Mannish garb with short hair. The other was an elf." Glorfindel started at that information. He turned to Celeborn. "Do you think it is him?"

"It must be." Celeborn turned to Haldir.

"Who?" Haldir asked in confusion.

"Haldir, who was the scout?" Celeborn ignored his question.

"Who are you looking for?" Haldir repeated.

"Lord Elrond." Erestor supplied as he mounted his steed.

"But none saw him leave our camp." Haldir argued.

"Which scout?" Celeborn repeated.

"His horse is gone too." Erestor clarified.

"Limon reported it. He and Tidurion were scouting behind us." Haldir called to the elves, who were currently enjoying breakfast. The Galadhrim warriors quickly came over to describe where he had seen the strangers.

"Could it have been Lord Elrond?" Haldir asked pointedly.

"Lord Elrond?" The elf stuttered in shock. "The elf had dark hair. Yes, it might be. I did not think anyone left our camp."

"We will find him." Glorfindel bade Asfaloth forward.


	5. Chapter 5 The Harpist

_Xxxxxxx Night in the camp by the last bridge xxxxxxxxX_

"Are you sure that you do not want to eat something Adar?" Elrohir asked in concern.

"Do not worry, ion-nin. I ate a big meal at mid-day." Elrond yawned and sipped at the healing draught. "Enjoy the evening." He smiled wryly at Elrohir's indecision. But his son finally nodded in agreement and left.

"_They treat me like some fragile glass. What would Ereinion say?" _Elrond smiled at that thought then sipped the brew. The mixture of oleander and milkweed was not unpleasant and did seem to help stave off the occasional chest pains he had been experiencing. _"Well, a life lived with energy and a zeal to help others does take its toll." _But he was definitely feeling better since the burdens of caring for Imladris had been lifted. It was also good to have some peace and quiet away from the well-meaning but at times suffocating concern of his son and close friends_. _Having finished the draught, he moved to get his quill and journal from his bag. He had not written in days, not since they had left Imladris. Through days of riding, the feelings of loss swept through his fëa and solidified in his mind. For loss was what it was. He had built a home in the valley. He had courted and won his bride. They enjoyed years of bliss together and were blessed with beautiful children, who were grown and now come into their own. He had given all that he had to keep his family and his people safe. He had weathered many changes in his long life. Change meant leaving parts of his life behind to begin anew. Writing was cathartic, allowing the feeling of loss to flow and opening room in his soul for thoughts of new beginnings like moments of sun streaming down through the clouds on a rain filled day. He sat down, pulled out his journal, and opened a small leather pouch that held a worn and much enjoyed writing set. It had metal nibs that fit into short wooden holders, which were favored by the Noldor from Aman versus the feathered quills that most of the Sindar liked. These were more robust for traveling. The gray ink stone had several small wells. To one of these wells, he added a little ink paste and five drops of water from his canteen. He pulled out a brush and mixed the water and solid ink together slowly, smiling when it had reached the correct consistency. He had perfected this technique over the ages, although the last time he had made his own ink paste from plants was thousands of years ago. He loaded the nib with ink from the brush, then set pen to paper and started writing. Words flowed out of him, describing the experience of leaving the valley and crossing the Bruinen. He needed to stop every two lines to refill the nib with ink. The repetitive motion was calming. Elrond wrote until the well was dry then with a yawn decided that he best not refill it. He rinsed the nib, brush, and stone with water from the canteen and stored them away.

The music swirled in the air. It was a rowdy tune, but he yawned again and laid down on the bedroll. _"I will change later." _He thought. _"Perhaps just a short nap for now." _His eyes closed.

"_It is a sad tune."_ _He said as he looked up at the harpist, his voice raspy. This warrior had stood between him and death, freeing him from the choking grasp just days ago. He shuddered and clutched at his throat as the memory of an enraged face surrounded by fiery red hair swam in his vision. _

"_Aye, a sad tune for sad times. The music weeps with us." The singer agreed._ _"We will think on your Naneth when we hear it."_

"_She must be very lonely where ever she is now." Elrond paused. Elros wiped at his eyes. The last few days had been terrifying. He clutched at his brother's hand._

"_Will she come back?" Elros whispered to their only confidant. "Must we go with you? They hate us." _Elrond blink dazedly, startled from his dream. He sat up a little disoriented. _"Why had he dreamed of that day?" _He was puzzled, but the haunting melody continued. It was not from his dream. _"No one here would recognize the song Maglor had written for them." _He realized suddenly. No, there could only be one source of this tune. He let his mind search afar, as he could when Vilya was strong, but was met with a wall of darkness because that power was gone. He must resort to other ways. Since childhood, he had a special relationship with the wind. It had helped a number of times in Himring, keeping him and his hiding place safe. Later that bond and power was forged to help warn him of danger. But detecting an old soul was difficult among this traveling party, given the number of ancient elves who traveled with them. He rose and pulled out the gray cloak from the bottom of his bag, then strapped his sword around his waist.

"_Silent like the air."_ He thought as he bent his mind to slipping away undetected. He and Ereinion had a regular competition to see who could slip their guards faster and stroll out in disguise among their people. Be it his heritage or his skill, Elrond excelled at blending into the shadows. It was not long until he had slipped behind the meadow the horses occupied. A low call brought Celthúl away from the others and back into the woods behind them.

"Thank you Celthúl for bearing me when you would rest. We will not go far. But you must be content to rest for awhile without your friends." Elrond patted his loyal steed then mounted, moving in the direction he thought he had heard the music arise from. Indeed, he soon spotted the lone rider who clearly carried a harp. The mysterious harpist seemed to know the way to move undetected through their border guard. Elrond followed, keeping Celthúl at a comfortable distance behind the other rider. Once they were beyond the normal zone for scouts, they rode in silence for about a half hour. It was only wise to be sure that no others stumbled upon them. The harpist turned into a cleft. It was a narrow path off the main rode that opened into a small flat span about ten horse lengths wide. Patches of grass grew here and there. The other dismounted and spoke softly to his horse, which proceeded to move off in search of food or rest. Then the singer turned toward Elrond.

"You came." He shown with the light of the firstborn for all he was clothed in the rough cloths of the people of the North. His hair was cut short obviously to blend in to his adopted people.

"Did you think that I would not?" Elrond's voice was soft. He dismounted and whispered to Celthúl, who neighed in agreement then wandered off in the direction of the other horse. Elrond scanned the area for others, but it seemed to just be the two of them.

"I did not bring you here to ambush you." The other said lightly.

"I had no such thoughts." Elrond shook his head. The figure was not the tall, hulking elf he recalled. _"Aye, but I had not yet reached my full height." _Elrond thought then said aloud. "But it is prudent to be cautious for our scout sighted wolves. Is this area well known to you?"

"I have not heard wolves today. They were likely frightened away by your large group." The elf replied, though he stepped backwards when Elrond stepped forward and seemed intent on maintaining the distance between them.

"Our numbers did not scare you away." Elrond spoke calmly, although this elf before him was like a figure out of his imagination. They were separated by lifetimes.

"I was hoping to speak with you, if you would allow it." The singer said simply.

"It was a dangerous way to attract my attention. I may not have been the only one to recognize the song." Elrond tried to assess the elder elf from afar. He sensed the elf was anxious but bore him no ill will.

"You were tied to the Valley by duty, and it would have been more dangerous to contact you there. I did not want to raise my hopes. Others would not be pleased. You know the law, the price for interacting with a kinslayer." The elf fell back into Westron, which had been his primary language for more than an age.

"I once called you uncle." Elrond put his hands out with his palms up in a sign of peace and slowly stepped closer.

"You should not. Your path has been hard enough." Maglor returned.

"How long is the sentence of exile?"

"My crimes were many." He looked away.

"Yes, I am aware – four kinslayings in the quest for a jewel." Elrond said calmly, looking squarely at the troubled brown eyes to assess the truth of his words and the temperament of his heart.

"Four? Yes, there were two guarding the Silmarils in the camp at the end of the war. Why did the Maiar not guard them? Why leave them in the open dangling in front of Maedhros? I could not convince him otherwise and then… and then they were dead." His voice held horror and his eyes sorrow and regret. This was an elf trying to make amends, although how one accomplished that given the horrific deeds, he did not know. "I killed many. What was worse was that our attitudes influenced our followers. They also learned not to value the lives of others and to denigrate elves not of the Feanorians. In the end, even the deaths of the young princes of Doriath, your real uncles, could be laid at our feet. For Celegorn's sworn guards injured and bound them, throwing innocent elflings in the forest where they died of their wounds and exposure." He wept at the whispered admission. Elrond stepped closer and laid his hand upon Maglor's arm. Maglor shivered as he felt Elrond's power sweep through him. "I could not save them. Maedhros and I could only bury them once we found them."

"It is difficult to reconcile the evil that you did with the person that I knew. You saved my life long ago and protected me as much as was within your power. I am in your debt."

"I did not do enough. You were hurt there and exposed to far more evil than an innocent boy should know. You would not have lost a home nor been in such danger if it had not been for my brothers and I."

"Yet, you were there in my need and offered protection. Surely that should count for something? Then there is the matter of your life for these last two ages. Is not two ages of this world enough for atonement? Can a person not be rehabilitated?"

"That is not your decision. They name us mass murderers, and they are correct."

"If you knew it was wrong at the time, why did you not leave them?"

"My brother was our leader. He and most of the others felt our anger was justified that others should know better than to withhold what was rightfully ours. Even if I had left with the handful of warriors who would have followed me, it would not have made a difference." Maglor paused. "It may have made the outcome much worse, for you and your brother would not have survived."

"No, we would not have survived Sirion without your intervention." Elrond said with surety. "Did your change of heart start at Doriath? Or when you saved us at Sirion? Or once you began to foster us?" The singer did not reply. So Elrond continued. "Perhaps it is still ongoing. I am confident enough in my standing that I would freely admit to meeting with you. I have had the great misfortune of meeting beings that could never be rehabilitated – of knowing those profoundly evil. But you are not numbered among those. Thus the issue of the length of the sentence and rehabilitation should be addressed."

"Only those that handed down the verdict could address it and only if they chose to do so. Then will the elves accept their verdict? For some no penalty would ever be enough for the horrors the sons of Feanor and their followers caused. I hesitate to think of the turmoil should Mandos release even a few of our warriors to be reborn in Aman, as he released your friend Glorfindel. Forgiveness is hard. Yet, an eternity of exile with slights both actual and perceived might only contribute to another outbreak of violence."

"Of the fates of the warriors from Himring, I can not say." Elrond shuddered imperceptible. They had been cruel to the Peredhil in Himring. Without Maglor, he and his twin would not have survived. "Yet, if your warriors repented of their deeds and fulfilled their sentence, should they not be reintegrated into elven society?"

"For that I have no answer." Maglor sighed. "I have not done nearly enough to mitigate the evil that I wroth."

"I think an age living humbly among the Edain teaching them, instructing them in the arts, literature, and healing is enough." Elrond paused. "I have forgiven you and would ask the Valar to forgive you."

"You can not forgive me." Maglor gasped but Elrond reached out and grabbed his shoulder to steady him. "That you would even think to do so gives me hope. How do you even know what I have been doing this last age?"

"Do you want me to list your favored pseudonyms?" Elrond's brow lifted in amusement. "I was the Lord of Imladris this last age and had a large intelligence network to draw on. Although none recognized you, there are only a handful of elves that willingly or unwillingly resolved to dwell with men. Believe me when I say I know that since the middle of the second age you have been using your gifts to help and to teach others. Prior to then, I have no knowledge."

"I wandered long in sorrow and desperation until I came back to myself."

"What brought you back?"

"In the long silences, I heard someone calling me." Maglor paused. "It took me long to acknowledge it and even longer to listen. But now, I meditate and pray. I listen for Eru's directions. Apparently, he still has plans for me, instructions for how to be the elf he wants. I think it will be long indeed before my soul can be molded to his liking for I am greatly lacking." Maglor paused and looked down. "I know my path still lies in these lands. I will trust in him to guide me forward.

"My heart wanted to seek you out before." Elrond paused. "But my duties were to protect and provide for my people in Imladris. It is what Eru bid of me."

"You always had a big heart – too big. You could not have sought me without putting yourself and others in danger. The laws of the Eldar are quite clear."

"Forgiveness is part of healing as you well known."

"I do not deserve your forgiveness." Maglor paused, for it did not seem right to ask.

"Is there something I can do for you?" Elrond sensed his need.

"There are others of my family who are hurting still from my absence – and from the absence of my brothers. Could you give these letters to Nerdanel and Mahtan?" He paused then added hastily, "Once you are healed and whole. I can see this war has taken its toll on you and you need to sail."

"I chose to sail now." Elrond restated. "I promise to deliver your letters to your Naneth and Daeradar as soon as I am able." Elrond promised solemnly. Maglor drew out two thick letters and extending his hand, gave them to Elrond.

"Your hand?" Elrond questioned as he took the letters and tucked them safely into his tunic pocket. "Why has it not healed?"

"It healed partially and does not prevent me from my daily tasks. I think it will not ever heal fully. It is my living reminder of the evil deeds I have committed." Maglor paused. "In our madness, we equated a jewel with more worth than the lives of others. I could toil away for the rest of eternity and not sooth even a small percentage of the horror we caused. It is right that I am exiled, forbidden to enter the cities of my kin." He pushed back the hair exposing his ear. Not the pointed ear of an elf, it had been cut with care and had healed with minimal scarring to look more like the rounded ears of men. "I may walk among them for ages yet doing what I can to atone. I will do what Eru bids." Maglor waved his hand in the air nonchalantly. Elrond carefully trapped Maglor's injured hand with his own to examine it more closely. The angry red scar looked like it had only occurred a month ago not over six thousand years ago. He reached out with his healing senses, their souls briefly connecting. He saw Maglor's deep sorrow and remorse. Then Elrond gave of himself, pouring out his healing to sooth the angry nerves that caused such pain. The connection gave a flash of incite into this troubled soul of Feanor's last remaining son.

"I forgave you long ago." Elrond said honestly, suddenly knowing that it was Maglor's spirit that prevented the scar from healing not some trick of a Silmaril.

"You can not. You should not. You are about to sail to meet your true parents. They will never forgive nor can they forget."

"Yet my forgiveness has been granted." Healing poured forth from him as if to accentuate his words. "I can not speak for my birth parents, for I do not clearly remember them."

"My fault too."

"My father was never coming back. His absence was not your fault. Of the others, those deeds are six and a half thousand years past. We cannot change the past, but we can forge a better future." Elrond slowed his healing until the connection forged between patient and healer broke. Maglor looked at him in wonder.

"It was you and your brother that changed me. My heart had not felt such love nor twisted with such worry at another's well-being." Maglor whispered. How long they sat there speaking, neither could say. But far too quickly the sky began to lighten.

"You must go back." Maglor said at last. "They must not find you in the presence of a kinslayer."

"It is far too late for that." Elrond disagreed. "They will soon be on their way to me. It is you who must leave quickly. I will obscure your tracks." They both rose and embraced.

"May Elbereth keep you safe, and may Eru guide your life." Elrond whispered.

"May you find happiness in the West." Maglor returned. "It has ever been my privilege to know you."

"I will deliver your letters." Elrond promised as Maglor whistled for his horse. Then, the only living son of Feanor, forever exiled from his people, rode away.

Xxxxxxxxx

"_I sense he is well. Do not take many with you. Bring none whom would be ill disposed towards a banished one – a kinslayer." _Celeborn felt his wife's voice fade from his mind. He relayed a cryptic message to Haldir before turning to Elrohir. "Your Adar is well. He would be dismayed if we showed up on mass to gather him like some wayward child." His words hang in the air as he spurred his steed forward. Glorfindel and Erestor were not far ahead and he signaled to them to halt. Elrohir pulled up beside them.

"My Lady senses that he is well. There is little need for all of us to go." He paused as if he were pondering the best course of action, though he knew well that the councilor's father had perished defending Elwing. "Erestor go back and make sure that the others know there is no danger." Erestor seemed about to protest, but Lord Celeborn was the highest authority among them. He nodded in acknowledgement and turned his horse back towards the camp.


	6. Chapter 6 An elusive figure

Glorfindel bent to study the tracks. At least six horses had past here, but four had continued around the perimeter and were obviously ridden by elves assigned to the watch. Only two continued back towards the gorges.

"These must be Celthúl's tracks. The prints clearly show that one horse was following the other. They were not riding side by side. Although who was following whom, I can not guess."

"Curious, who would Adar have gone to meet?" Elrohir wondered. "And why would he not tell someone?"

"Perhaps he thought that he would only be gone a short while or, "Celeborn paused.

"The one he was meeting was someone who valued their privacy or one who might not be welcome among us." Glorfindel finished. His eyes narrowed as he thought about who might fit in the later category. "Is that why you sent Erestor back?" The silver lord only shrugged and spurred his horse forward. Glorfindel shook his head and mumbled something that Elrohir did not hear before mounting Asfaloth.

"After you my Lord." The Golden Warrior motioned Elrohir forward. "I hope you will not prove as slippery as your Adar when I am sworn to your service."

"Perhaps he may slip away to meet an Elleth." Celeborn's voice floated back to them. "Did you ever divulge how you were assaulted by acorns when you were trying to track a mysterious harpist?" Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. There were few who knew that story of whom Celeborn was not supposed to be a part.

"Acorns?" Elrohir smile jovially. "When was this?"

"After the last alliance when your Adar and Naneth were courting." Glorfindel grumbled in feigned offense, though he was happy to hear the younger son of Elrond laugh. They rode beyond the perimeter and came to the main path through the trollshaws. Two set of prints turned into just one and veered off to a narrow path that led right off the main road.

"Celeborn, I shall go first." Glorfindel ordered, unwilling to expose the Sindar Lord to unknown danger.

"As you wish." Celeborn said amiably. Glorfindel maneuvered Asfaloth forward, and then stopped at the fork in the road, scanning beyond for danger. He could sense that Elrond was close by, but he could still not contact him. If Elrond did not respond to his mental calls, was he too weary to judge who was near? He nudged Asfaloth forward slowly for a clear view of the cleft in front of them. Surprisingly, it opened into a narrow grassy plain. A great chestnut colored steed grazed in the distance.

"Eärendilion Mellon-nin, I hope your sword is lowered and you are about to welcome us." He called out in Quenyan, for enemies would not comprehend such words. Then he spurred Asfaloth forward into the cleft. Curiously, the ground only showed signs that one had passed here. Elrohir and Celeborn road up behind him. All three scanned their surroundings for the elusive elf. A sword clearly rang as somewhere unseen it was sheathed.

"You have come to retrieve me?" The familiar voice murmured as if distracted and held amusement. It bounced oddly off the high walls of the cleft leaving its owner's positioned cloaked. He exchanged glances with Celeborn and Elrohir, but neither of them had located the elusive Lord of Imladris. "I was in no danger and was heading back shortly." The voice hung in the air as if he meant to say more. Glorfindel was reminded of a young and overworked Herald, who he had dragged back to a tent. He was behind them – somewhere between their position and the entrance near the main path. Glorfindel saw Elrohir grin, for the last comment came verbatim from excuses that he and his brother had often given to their Adar when they were young. It was Celeborn who answered lightly.

"We were not questioning your right to travel as you see fit, nor were we doubting your prowess with weapons." But Celeborn's softly spoken words produced no response. They slowly scanned the area carefully listening for the clues for the Peredhel's whereabouts as Celeborn added more loudly. "It was unlike you to disappear without leaving word. Glorfindel, Elrohir, and I merely decided to look for you."

"Why did you come here?" Glorfindel spoke loudly. His voice faded away, bringing only long moments of silence. Glorfindel wanted to ask why Elrond had taken the trouble to obscure the tracks of his companion. Was that companion still near? Glorfindel tensed at that thought but kept his feelings to himself. The first order of business was to get the Peredhel to join them.

"My counsel was sought." The voice was almost surreal, and the next comment was murmured. "I have always given counsel."

"Adar, where are you?" Elrohir called as he tried to focus on their shared bond.

"Your presence is sought now. I sense it is only the four of us here." Glorfindel paused then continued in more winsome tones. "Come share a bit of miruvor. You can not have slept long. You must be tired."

The gray rock shimmered as a figure stepped forward, seemingly materializing before their eyes. Hands seem to hover in the air as Elrond slipped off his hood. Static caused his hair to float around him like smoke, giving a ghostly impression much like an imagined shape floating in the fog. _"Was this related to their fay heritage?"_ Elrohir wondered for he could here the undertones of the strange music that had gripped him just a handful of days before.

"Adar, how stealthy." Elrohir exclaimed, but his father did not acknowledge him.

"Did you find who you sought?" Glorfindel queried slowly, his eyes trying to catch Elrond's silver ones. Elrohir could feel him focusing his power as the golden glow from Aman spilled from his hroa. Elrond remained silent but turned towards Glorfindel as if only now seeing him. The former Lord of Imladris stepped down from the ledge and walked slowly towards them, obviously still lost in other thoughts but drawn by Glorfindel's light. His footfalls echoes lightly off the walls. Both his approach and the gentle echo of footstep endowed him with more substance. He halted in front of Glorfindel.

"Good morning Mellon-nin." Glorfindel pushed the worry from his voice and greeted the Peredhel with a warm embrace. "You led us on a merry chase." Elrohir saw a golden glow pass between them, visibly strengthening his Adar.

"Us?" Elrond repeated only now turned to see his son and Celeborn. He smiled suddenly and returned the greeting. "It is just the three of you? You did not bring Erestor?"

"Only the three of us came." Celeborn did not let his concern seep into his voice.

"Who did you meet, Adar?" Elrohir stepped up and held his hands out, palms up in the traditional sign healers use to ask permission to assess a patient. Elrond shook his head for 'no' and would have stepped away had Glorfindel not still had his arm around him.

"By what force did you hold him back?" Humor crept into Elrond's voice, which now also took on more of his characteristic tone.

"Being the former Lord of Lothlorien still counts for something." Celeborn smiled wryly. "We suspected that perhaps one of the exiled contacted you." Silver eyes marked each of them closely as if coming to a decision.

"You are all to remain here after I sail." Elrond yawned uncharacteristically. The others kept silent as they waited for an explanation. "You may come across one who has wandered in exile for two ages of this world. I beseech you to keep an open mind." They all drew in a breath as they pondered the probability of an encounter with the son of Feanor. Although both Glorfindel and Celeborn had suspected this, to hear it aloud was something else. Elrohir stood puzzled and waited for his father to continue.

"He will not willing seek out elves. But he wanted to speak with me before I sailed. It was a tune that alerted me to his presence. He improvised it to calm and sooth us after the attack on Sirion. After that, Elros and I clamored for it whenever we were afraid, which occurred all too often those first years in Himring." Elrond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Glorfindel kept his arm around the Peredhel in support. The others stood gaping, but no one dared to interrupt. "Aye, Maglor Feanorian has done deeds that warranted exile, but two Peredhil would have died at Sirion or shortly after if it was not for his intervention. I spent much of the night talking with him. His eyes were clear and held a new light –one with peaceful purpose, though he says he is still under the sentence of exile. I could readily read his heart and thoughts. I believe he now follows the right path. He has spent much of the past two ages trying to atone for his ill deeds – living, working and teaching the second born." Elrond gave a low whistle that made the rest of them jump. Celthúl neighed in response and quickly came to nuzzle his friend's hand.

"He is a kinslayer nonetheless." Celeborn murmured almost reflexively, although he dearly hoped that his wife's cousin had repented of his deeds. Elrohir stepped forward to lay his hand on his Adar's shoulder and assess his Adar's spirit. He sensed a great weariness, but his Adar was otherwise unharmed. Elrond squeezed his son's hand reassuringly then whispered to Celthúl as he mounted.

"He was." Elrond agreed as he mounted, a clear signal that their conversation was at an end. "Others have passed judgment and rendered his sentence. There is good in his heart and I believe he is …. I pray that someday the Valar will declare his sentence served and allow him to return home."

"You used your own strength when you have none to spare." Elrohir bit back his next thought, one his Daeradar must be thinking. _"Shared what little healing power you have with a Kinslayer._

"Healing works both ways, Elrohir." Elrond pushed a wayward strand behind his ear then rubbed at his eyes. "My heart is lighter for seeing him. I hold to hope." Glorfindel and Celeborn exchanged knowing looks as they resolved not to push the Peredhel for further information. It was obvious that Elrond was tired but content.

"You will be glad to know that last night everyone agreed to spending an extra day at our current location before crossing the last bridge tomorrow." Glorfindel smiled wryly then added. "Many were happy to frolic in the clear waters of the Hoarwell. Others spent far too long celebrating last night." Elrohir had the good sense to blush.

"It is normal to give the horses a rest on the fifth day." Celeborn said solemnly, though his eyes were twinkling merrily. "I am sure you calculated that before imbibing last night." The journey back was quicker and more jovial. Scouts sent signals when they spotted the Lords afar. Galadriel subtly maneuvered the others away, allowing Elrond to ride to his tent with few witnesses.

"Come Adar, it has been far to exciting a day for me after such a late night." Elrohir made a jest on his own behalf. "I, for one, could use a short nap. I am sure Glorfindel would not mind caring for the horses."

"As you wish my Lords." Glorfindel dismounted and came forward to claim the other horses, executing an exaggerated bow before Elrohir. Elrond, Elrohir and Celeborn went into the small tent. Galadriel smiled at their entrance.

"You are tired Elrond." Her voice floated gently over them. "Come eat and then take your rest. There will be plenty of time later to discuss the events of this day." She rose and kissed her son in law on the brow before linking hands with her beloved spouse and leaving the peredhil to their own devices.


	7. Chapter 7 Into the Sea

The darkness was warm and fragrant. Elrond slowly rose and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before scanning the tent. He saw a dark figure sprawled atop a bedroll. Apparently, his son had enjoyed himself during the evening. Elrond stood silently, grabbing his towel and other accouterments. A soak in the waters of the Mitheithel would do him well. His sons always referred to the river as the Hoarwell, its name in Westron, as did the Rangers. But Mitheithel rolled beautifully from the tongue. He yawned. Apparently his encounter with Maglor had drained him more than he realized for he had slept the day and night away. _"Maglor," _his heart rose at the name of his protector from childhood. How many years had he agonized and wondered about the elf's fate? Life was circuitous now – with faces from long ages ago resurfacing in his dreams. He stepped out of the tent, and was greeted by the slight blush of the predawn sky. Elrond waved at Cirulian, lifting his towel and clothes to express his destination. The Teleri nodded. The enticing music of the rushing water guided him to the Hoarwell's banks. No one else was about, apart from Cirulian who was discrete. Elrond filled his wooden pail from the Hoarwell's water. Then stripped and splashed briefly in the river before climbing ashore, picking up his bucket, and walking a little back from the river behind a welcoming willow tree to soap up. Then he rinsed himself off, taking care that the suds soaked into the soil instead of meandering towards the river. It was a natural precaution. With so many of them traveling, it would be unwise to allow their grey water to soil the Hoarwell. Too many people downstream relied on the river.

'_Do no harm,' _was a first tenant of healer training. Elrond squeezed the water from his hair and satisfied that it did not hold much soap residue and walked back to the river.

"_Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!" _The river burbled and frothed along its banks. Its song was wild, jubilant, and free as the water rushed downwards guided on its journey by mysterious and mystic forces that endowed the waters with joy. He sighed quietly as he entered the water. The crystal mountain water was naturally brisk. It welcomed him as he crouched then leaned back to dip his head into the water. The sky reeled and disappeared from his vision as the water rushed possessively around him.

"_Come West Elrond." The seductive cry of the sea ebbed and flowed around him. The tide buffeted his body caressing his cheek like a lover. He sunk deeper allowing it to fill him with its desire. _

"_I am coming." _He promised. His lungs burned, reminding him that he was under the water. He pushed upward, breaking the surface and thrusting up into the air. Then he stood, breaking the water's connection. The water droplets slid enticingly along his torso like sweet touches of beloved fingers.

"Elrond," Glorfindel's voice broke through the fog. "Not thinking of swimming to the sea, I hope? The ship does not sail from Lond Daer but from Mithlond." The golden Vanya smiled teasingly, then threw him a towel.

"I do believe that Aragorn plans to renew the shipyards at Lond Daer." Elrond smiled as he caught the towel and quickly wrapped it around his torso as he stepped from the river. "But it will be years until the population of Gondor grows large enough to consider such endeavors."

"If that occurs, I will be sure to visit before I take the ship west." He handed Elrond a tunic and leggings then motioned to him. "Sit, for I wish to reassure myself that you are no mere apparition." The Vanya took the towel and vigorously rubbed at the silken locks before moving to comb them methodically. "You can give in to the longing. You have been holding back for too many years."

"Then I might be overcome and not make it to the sea." Glorfindel laughed in disbelief at Elrond's statement. A small sigh slipped from the Peredhel at the simple pleasure of having his hair combed. Elves needed the closeness of their people. The drop of Maiar heritage in his veins gave him a greater longing for connection to others, but fate had often induced abscissions. He gave thanks again to Eru for the gift of the golden warrior's abiding love and friendship.

"Yes, you would not want to stare off into space like Erestor." Glorfindel's voice was louder than necessary.

"We have little choice once the sea longing overcomes us." An offended Erestor retorted, but there was an undertone of anguish in his voice. Elrond turned. His councilor held a tray with breakfast items and bent to place them beside him. Dark eyes filled with pain met silver.

"We are journeying to the sea. It is fine to give into the longing." Elrond coaxed as he grabbed Erestor's hand.

"I dare not, for I may not find my way back." Erestor had never come to Elrond for help. The Lord of Imladris had been suffering from the sea longing for hundreds of years. Surely, Erestor could wrestle the longing and persevere for a handful of years.

"Most elves sail quickly once the longing is upon them." Elrond paused.

"But not you. Legolas also plans to stay although he hears the call." Erestor stepped away.

"You know I have spoken long with Legolas on methods for dealing with the longing. I hope that it will not become unbearable."

"He will come to me if it gets to that point." Glorfindel held back a smile at Erestor's look of surprise. The chief councilor looked back and forth between the two. "I know things that will help."

"Glorfindel helped me also. You are not alone. Giving in briefly to the longing helps keep it at bay, especially as we are journeying towards the ship. Do you not trust me?" Elrond looked squarely at the councilor and held his hand out. Erestor nodded. They walked forward to sit on the banks of the river, dipping their feet into its water. Erestor moaned at the contact. "Close your eyes." Elrond instructed quietly. "I will be with you as we seek the song of the sea together. There is much to rejoice in. We are called." Erestor felt the healer's song engulf and strengthen him. Elrond's calm voice floated in his mind when he would have pulled away. The longing was a flash - an intense burst of pain. "Let us greet the sea together." Soothing warmth flowed into him characteristic of the singular healer. Their spirits were swept away in the rushing water. Glorfindel watched them both closely, noting how Erestor relaxed as the two elves sought the song of the sea bound in meditation. Elrond looked far too pale for the Vanya's liking but was still every inch the formidable elven Lord of Imladris. Nay, he would not gainsay the noted healer even though privately, he feared for his welfare. Minutes passed slowly. In the background, the camp was springing to life as elves ate their morning meal, began to dismantle tents, and prepare for their departure. Footsteps behind him included Elrohir and, if his ears did not deceive, Erestor's wife Gwidian. He turned to assuage their fears.

"Fair morning." Glorfindel greeted them with a bright smile. Elrohir was dressed and carried what could only be a healing draught for his Adar.

"What is happening?" Gwidian was fearful, for she knew how her beloved suffered under the longing.

"Elrond is tutoring Erestor in how to give into the sea longing without losing oneself. They shall be back among us shortly." Indeed, he could see that Erestor was beginning to stir. Elrond was still pale and in what to the untrained eye resembled a healing trance. Elrohir placed his hand on his father's shoulder. The simple act was an anchor acting to call the other back. Across from them, the councilor's dark brown eyes blinked dazedly as his spouse caressed his cheek.

"Gwidian?" Surprise filled his voice as his beloved reached out through their bond.

"The longing, it has receded." Gwidian smiled in delight.

"Not receded but brought in check by acknowledging it." A broad smile brightened his visage. "Soon we will be standing at the shore, and as our friend Bilbo says, ready for our next adventure." His wife agreed as she held his hand. Both were smiling as Elrond's eyes slowly focused.

"Le fael Mellon-nin. (Thank you my friend.)" Erestor bowed his head in reverence.

"No thanks are needed. It was my honor to help." Elrond said softly as his son passed him a cup of tea.

"You are far too generous Elrond." Erestor slowly shook his head. Gwidian passed them bowls of cracked wheat porridge sweetened with fruit and nuts. Though now cool, both Erestor and Elrond accepted them gratefully.

"I have gathered your pack. Cirulian was bringing Celthúl. But perhaps you should ride with me this morning, Adar." Elrohir suggested.

"I feel like songs this morning. If you could locate my harp." Elrond smiled reassuringly then sipped the draught and took a small bit of the porridge. "The sea awaits us."

"So it does." Galadriel floated regally over. "What melodies spring from your memory Earendilion?"

"Ancient ones Cirdan used to sing to us." Silver eyes glowed while a slow smile spread over the usually too somber face. So, the morning passed on horseback with the former Lord of Imladris strumming ancient melodies on a silver harp surrounded by singers whose memories reached back into those bygone times. Lindir, Elrohir and their contemporaries marveled at the lilting Sindarin and stirring Telerin in the sea tunes that were nearly unrecognizable to their ears. The days passed swiftly as the elves traveled the old roads passed Bree. Elrond and his son at times sought solitude for mediation. Elrond shared methods for gleaning remnants of the _Ainulindalë_ in the melody of the trees and helped Elrohir adjust to his newly awoken maiar traits. Finally, they came to the outskirts of the Shire. Just past the green hills, the elves heard a new song float towards them on the breeze.

"Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or secret gate"

"Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee await us." Galadriel intoned to her spouse. Celeborn gave a signal. Once Frodo's song ended, Gildor's tune began in answer.

"A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!

silivren penna miriel

o menel aglar eleneth

Gilthoniel! A! Elbereth! (1 Tolkien's words)

Sam and Frodo watched the elves ride past. So many were leaving! Master Elrond signaled them forward.

"May a stars shine upon the hour of our meeting." Elrond fingered his harp and bid the hobbits welcome. "We are honored by your company." Frodo and Sam coaxed their ponies forward to join Master Elrond.

"Well Master Samwise," the Lady Galadriel began as she pulled near on her white palfrey. "I hear and see that you have used my gift well. The Shire shall now be ever blessed and beloved." (1 Tolkien's words) Sam bowed at the waist but was tongue-tied. The Lord Celeborn greeted them both before motioning behind them. Following behind on a grey pony rode Bilbo half asleep.

"Hullo Frodo!" He said. "Well, I have passed the Old Took today! So that's settled. Now I think I am quite ready to go on another journey! Are you coming?" (1 Tolkien's words) Elrond, Galadriel, and Celeborn joined the others in singing a hymn to Elbereth. In this small way they sought to preserve the hobbits privacy, for Sam was distraught at the revelations.

"Master Gamgee should not have to make the journey back alone." Elrond was concerned. Perhaps he could ask his son or Glorfindel to look after the noble hobbit.

"There is no need to fear." Galadriel smiled slyly. "Mithrandir will not be alone when he rejoins us." Elrond waited for further explanation, but none was forthcoming. Nonplussed, he turned back to his harp, joining in the melody that Lindir led from afar. They traveled past the outskirts of the Shire all evening and into the night. At times, each of the hobbits took their rest by joining one the elves on their horses. Yet the elves were called. The sea longing drove them forward, banishing weariness and focusing them with a singleness of mind on their destination. For many, a great sigh of relief was audible as they passed the Towers and looked upon the sea in the distance. The melody of the sea heartened many who suffered under the longing. Several days later, they approached the gulf of Lhûn. It was a wide expanse. An official welcome party from the Havens approached, though it was still miles to the docks where the ships were berthed. Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Lord Celeborn stepped forward to talk with a tall elf who sported a white beard.

"That is Cirdan the Shipwright." Elrohir leaned over to whisper to Frodo and Bilbo. "I should help organize our people into smaller groups."

"Whatever for?" Bilbo asked.

"Would you not prefer to sleep in a bed for a few nights? We can not all stay at one house." Erestor cheerfully explained.

"Our group will stay at Lord Cirdan's house while the others will spend the next few days in lodgings further down in the Havens or in and around the gulf of Lhûn. Our numbers are too great to burden a single host." Gwidian added.

"I release my charge to you Erestor." Glorfindel smiled cheekily as he dismounted. "It is your duty to keep him safe on the passage and beyond."

"Who is your charge, Lord Glorfindel?" Frodo asked curiously.

"It has been my honor to be a friend to Master Elrond for more than an age of this world." Glorfindel sketched an exaggerated bow then stroked Asfaloth's mane. The horse nickered happily.

"But is he not a healer and has been safely ensconced in Rivendell?" Frodo mused. "That does not seem like too dangerous."

"You would be surprised." Glorfindel said. "But I dare not divulge any information, especially as Erestor and Cirulian have so graciously agreed to accompany all of you west."

"I propose we survey the kitchens." Bilbo intervened. "I have heard tale that the dishes of the Teleri are like no others."

"That is well stated." Erestor agreed as he helped Bilbo to dismount. Gwidian smiled and led Frodo forward. "Are you coming Glorfindel?"

"You are not staying with Elrond?" Glorfindel teased Erestor.

"He is in the company of Cirdan at our destination by the sea. What could possibly happen?" Erestor laughed. Elrond looked up from where he was talking with Cirdan, his brow raised in question.

"There are refreshments on the veranda for those who wish." Cirdan directed with a sweep of his arm. "I trust you all know the way." Glorfindel, Erestor and Gwidian waved and led their small company towards the kitchens. Galadriel and Celeborn climbed the stairs with Elrohir, but Elrond looked out towards the ocean.

"I would like a short walk first." Elrond looked to Cirdan momentarily. The Mariner nodded, instantly knowing that Elrond wished to speak privately. Cirulian followed them, assuming his customary role as Elrond's guard. Along the shoreline in soft and diplomatic words, Elrond described his meeting with Maglor to one of the few left who had understood their relationship. Only Cirdan's great age and experience helped him to keep an unreadable visage at these surprising revelations.

The others receded to the palatial abode that had for millennia welcomed visitors of the highest importance. "Why would my Maiar heritage be stirred now?" Elrohir mused. "Soon there will no longer be Maiar in these lands."

"Mithrandir passes away as does your Adar." Galadriel began softly. Celeborn continued.

"But Radagast remains and perhaps one of the blue wizards." Celeborn saw Elrohir tense and reached to grasp his shoulder in support. His Adar had suffered at the hands of what they believed had been one of the blue wizards. "Also, who knows if anything yet remains hidden in the tunnels of Moria or in Mordor or in the arid lands of Harad. Arwen and your gifts may be needed in the coming transition. I will remain to aid you."

"For your presences Daeradar, I am truly thankful." Elrohir turned to his Galadriel. "I know well how difficult separation can be – how difficult it was for Adar when Naneth sailed."

"We pray to find her whole and well on the shores of the west." Galadriel rose and kissed her grandson on the brow. The wind picked up suddenly. She saw her grandson stiffen. "What do you sense Elrohir?"

"A new song approaches – a Maia is coming." Elrohir shivered, his silver eyes suddenly glassy as he turned to face the shore. He saw his Adar standing on the beach with Cirdan and Cirulian. Elrond was looking out over the ocean.

"Go to him." Galadriel ordered. No further word was necessary. Elrohir bounded down the steps and out onto the sand. Out on the beach, Cirdan had halted, perplexed.

"I would not be adverse to meeting Maglor." Cirdan paused. "Although his hands have carried out great evil, I have always seen him as the most reasonable of Feanor's sons. His deeds towards you and Elros and his long years of repentance do much to redeem him. I would consult with Ulmo." Cirdan met Elrond's eyes steadily. "Your task is more difficult."

"I do plan to bring his case before the Valar." Elrond promised softly, then turned to continue walking along the shore. The Mariner paused, stroking his white beard methodically as he looked over the ocean. Cirulian had kept some yards behind them to protect their privacy but still guard Elrond. Both of them gasped as a wave rose large and narrow. It lurched mercurially, crashing over Elrond like a net of water. Like a trap sprung by some unknown force, it grabbed the elf as if it was its single target. The Peredhel had spent much of his life near the ocean and was an excellent swimmer, but they saw him fall limp into the surf and disappear into the frothing tide.

"Adar!" Elrohir ran into the surf, screaming for his father. Cirdan ran forward into the water too, but detected no sign of Elrond. He saw Elrohir dived left, obviously guided by his bond to his Father. Precious moments ticked by with no sign of either Peredhil.

Cirdan strode deeper into the water, fearless. For he now recognized the power behind the waves. He had dealt many times with Ossë and Uinen and knew it was the later with whom he had to negotiate now. Ossë would never choose stealth.

"Uinen release them. Ulmo will not be pleased if you cause their deaths." Cirdan strode into the water. A large pearl on a chain was glowing in his hand. "Uinen! They have not the skill of the Maia to change their hroar! They will drown." He cried and thrust the chain underwater. Moments later Elrohir surfaced twenty feet off the shore.

"Help!" He coughed sputtering in the water as he crushed a limp figure to his chest. Cirulian and Cirdan dove into the water instantly, adrenaline pushing both to cover the distance in record time. Cirdan grasped the limp figure and pulled him ashore as Cirulian aided Elrohir. The son of Elrond sank gratefully to the sand coughing violently as he tried to expel the water from his lungs. Cirdan already had Elrond on his back and was compressing his chest. Elrohir heard his father cough weakly and looked over as Cirdan turned Elrond on his side.

"There is more than that in his lungs." Elrohir wheezed and crawled over to his father. The elder Peredhel's lips were already blue.

"Uinen!" Cirdan shouted at the sea, while Elrohir desperately crawled to Elrond. "You will not want to face Ulmo's wrath should he die." The words sparked an immediate reaction. A wide expanse of water rose upwards. Instinctively, Elrohir clutched his father to himself, but the water did not overwhelm them. Instead it rose into a vortex and eerily took the shape of a gigantic woman who suddenly bent over them.

"Elwing visits us. Why not them?" She seemed to pout but placed her hand on Elrond's back. Elrohir's whole being was caught up in the power that tingle in the air. "He always ignored my summons." She frowned. Cirdan held Elrond's head as he vomited up water. Elrohir sank beside them as still as a statue. Cirdan finally breathed again when he saw color return to Elrond's lips. Water still trickled out his mouth, evidently expelled from the lungs by the power of the mercurial Maia that leaned over them. Suddenly, the silver eyes focused. Cirdan could read shock and awe in their depth. Uinen laughed – a haunting sound that seemed to shake them from within. "You could have come before." She laughed at Elrond. Then the singular water lady turned to Cirdan.

"He is not like Elwing. His soul is strange and full of contradictory colors, disciplined but rushing, fierce and generous, protective and passionate, strong yet injured. So many competing tendencies!" Uinen shook her head in confusion.

"These things do not have to be incompatible." Cirdan noted even as he wondered how different the Maiar were from elves. _"No it was this Maia and her husband" _he reminded himself, _"so different from Mithrandir and Melian." _Uinen stepped back from Elrond and turned towards Elrohir. Her disturbingly sea-colored hands were long fingered with nails the color of red coral. The long braids that formed her hair seemed woven out of water and gave off rainbows in the sun. Cirdan gaped as Uinen pressed her hand against Elrohir's chest. Elrond's son looked as if he were frozen, immobile under the power of the Maia. She smiled wryly with an almost satisfied grin as she gripped his tunic. "This one has a wild spirit. You will come visit me again." She bent lower to kiss his brow.

"You will not harmed them like you did Elros." Glorfindel suddenly appeared to confront the Maia.

"Elros," Uinen repeated as a small smile flitted across her face followed by feigned offense. "I did not hurt Elros." She protested under Glorfindel's hard stare. "You are bold twice born." The golden warrior forced his way in between Uinen and Elrohir.

"Release them." Glorfindel ordered.

"These Peredhil are a mystery. No one is the same as another. I have not hurt them Nowë." She turned towards the Mariner, but the golden warrior followed her. She relented. "I release them." She laughed, and the water that formed her image suddenly crashed to the ground, abruptly released from its constraints. Of Uinen there was no sign. The water soaked them as the tide swept away. Elrohir blinked dazedly at Glorfindel as if awakening from a deep sleep. Elrond groaned and clutched his head as he sat up, finally covering his eyes with his hands. Cirdan was kneeling by him in an instant.

"Elrond are you well?" Cirdan did not know where to begin. Cirulian bent near them, ready to offer any aid necessary.

"I am fine." Cirdan nearly snorted at the understatement. Elrond wondered where his sons had inherited this tendency! "Where is Elrohir? Is he hurt?" Elrond whispered. Cirdan looked over to where Glorfindel was assessing the younger Peredhel. Elrohir was shaking violently, an aftermath of his encounter with Uinen.

"Elrohir will be fine. You are my charge today, Mellon-nin. Where are you hurt?"

"Headache … Elros said it was Ossë who was wild and rash." Elrond rasped.

"Your Naneth and brother loved the sea?" Elrohir asked weakly as Glorfindel ran his hands over his torso.

"I do not remember Elwing." Elrond admitted softly. "But Elros loved the sea."

"Yes, Elwing loved the sea." Cirdan corrected as he helped Elrond to his feet. He fought the urge to swing the regal elf Lord up into his arms. The said Lord looked more like a drowned elfling. "But for now, let us get you both up to the veranda, where at least a glass of Miruvor is called for if not something stronger. Once you arrive in the west and feel stronger, you should inquire about the relationship Elwing has nurtured with Uinen."

(1 Tolkien's words) These are Tolkien's words from the Chapter on The Grey Havens in The Return of the King.


	8. Chapter 8 Taking ship

Elrohir eschewed the veranda in favor of the living room, which was safely inside. Once back at Cirdan's house he had bathed and changed into dry clothes, while Glorfindel had helped his father and sent for Mistress Silsilalda. Cirdan stepped away to talk with Galdor and Celongwen about their guests.

"The song – her song was so powerful," Elrohir shivered as he sipped the Miruvor. "The memory of it burns. Do you think the songs also hurt Adar?"

"You will have to ask him." Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged looks of concern. Their silent interchange passed mind to mind.

"_It is well that you will remain with our grandchildren." _Galadriel squeezed her husband's hand gently. If she only could prolong every touch, every word, every kiss.

"He has not met Uinen before." Elrohir knew, having sensed his Adar's surprise, apprehension, and awe.

"No, but Elros did." Most of them jumped at Glorfindel's unexpected entrance.

"How is Adar?" Elrohir immediately inquired.

"He says that he is fine." Glorfindel paused and was rewarded by Elrohir's laugh of disbelief. "He is resting. Silsilalda and Erestor are with him."

"I should go to him."

"He will soon be asleep, and you need to talk about what you experienced." Glorfindel sensed this keenly.

"Adar helped me listen for the songs of the Maiar. Today they were loud, powerful, and nearly unbearable." He shook his head.

"What else troubles you?" Galadriel could sense he held something back.

"I could not understand the words, I could only feel the power and sense…" Here Elrohir paused, uncertain, "…sense colors or sensations or maybe emotions overwhelming in their strength. Adar goes west to a land where these beings are numerous."

"Elwing has the same heritage and lives there in peace." Glorfindel words were light and unconcerned and eased Elrohir's heart.

"Mithrandir will meet us tomorrow. He is the one you should approach with your questions and worries." Celeborn advised. Elrohir studied his Daeradar and Glorfindel for a long moment.

Then he asked, "Were one of you there when Elros met Uinen?"

"Glorfindel and I witnessed the meeting between Elros, Ossë, and Uinen," Cirdan began having just returned to their gathering. "It was in the first age, just after the War of Wrath. I think your Adar has told you how many Maiar spirits came with the hosts of the Valar. Only a few of them drew hroar about them; thus, we were quite ignorant of their presence. But your Adar and Uncle felt them keenly and were unfortunately injured by the fierce strength of the Maiar in battle."

"Adar went to live among the Avari to learn to meditate and listen for the songs of the Ainur." Elrohir recalled. "What happened to Elros?

"Ossë and Uinen cared for him and helped him understand his heritage." Glorfindel remembered Elrond's prickly and at times overbearing brother who grew into a great king. At the names of the Maiar, Elrohir noticeably stiffened, and his eyes grew distance

"What is it?" Celeborn moved over to him.

"Another Maia approaches." Elrohir felt a rising anxiety, but his Adar's voice whispered calmly in his mind. _"Do not worry. It is Mithrandir." _The touch of his father's spirit triggered an old memory.

_Xxxxxx Imladris, Third age, 1000 xxxxxxX_

"_All is prepared, my Lord." Erestor intercepted Adar as he stepped out onto the veranda. They talked for a few moments before Elrond waved him away with a smile. Naneth enjoyed having their family meet for breakfast out on the veranda especially in the spring. It had become a tradition, even though Arwen was now an adult. But this morning both Adar and Naneth were late. Elladan, always the fastest eater, was already finished with his breakfast and now sat sipping tea out of courtesy. _

"_Good morning Adar!" Arwen beamed. To say that his daughter was excited to visit Lothlorien was an understatement. "Why are you dressed the same as Elrohir and Elladan?"_

"_Good morning Sell-nin." He bent to kiss her cheek before greeting his sons. "Do you think I might be mistaken for one of them? Or them for me? Perhaps your brothers might officiate in my place."_

"_Or maybe you could take my watch." Elrohir teased._

"_Or my place in the patrol." Elladan grinned._

"_I have gone on patrol with you before, ion-nin." Elrond returned. _

"_Aye, once." Elrohir laughed. It had been an experience. Apparently their father had taken part in the watches and patrols more regularly before the twins graced Imladris. While that was only a few hundred years ago, both Elrohir and his brother agreed that they could not imagine it. _

"_Where is Naneth?" Arwen was surprised that her Mother had not yet appeared._

"_She is taking care of some last preparations." Elrond assured her. _

"_I was going to prepare our horses, Adar." Elladan rose and grasped their father's hand before turning back to the table. _

"_Excellent Elladan, I will catch up." Elrohir smiled slyly at his brother but reached for another vanilla Aurcram. The breakfast pastries were a favorite item. Elladan gave an exaggerated sigh before leaving. Elrond's eyes glinted in amusement at the proceedings, while Arwen laughed openly. _

"_Will you tease each other the entire journey?" Arwen asked hopefully. Elrohir coughed to hide his answer. Their Adar was oddly silent. He usually enjoyed and commented on their banter. Arwen was the first to notice something amiss. _

"_Adar?" She rose from her seat and was by her Adar in the blink of an eye. Elrond sat, nearly immobile at the table. His silver eyes were staring hard at something. Elrohir had the sense that what ever it was, it was not in the room before them. _

"_Adar?" Elrohir approached too._

"_A vision?" Arwen placed her hand on Ada's shoulder as they had been taught. Neither of them had seen their Adar or Daernaneth experience visions but had heard stories. _

"_What is wrong sell-nin?" Their Naneth entered the room. She too was clad in the simple garb of a scout. It only took her a moment to assess the situation and take charge. _

"_Elrohir, tell the guard to let none but family come in. Then go find Glorfindel. Be discrete." Celebrian took Arwen's place by their Adar's side. "Arwen my love, can you go brew willow-bark tea for your Adar?"_

"_Yes, Nana." Arwen turned and ran past Elrohir. Elrohir could not recall how he found Glorfindel. His next memory was of them out on the veranda. He stood guard at the door while his Mother and Glorfindel talked with his father. Elrond's voice was barely audible._

"… _are coming." Adar's voice was low and steady._

"_You are sure? Galdor leads one of the Maiar here?" Glorfindel repeated. _

"_Yes, they are only days from the Bruinen." His Adar clarified. The three heads together – silver, gold and ebony had ever been his protectors. In his musings, he missed some of the words but caught fragments: "Cirdan's charge … Maia clothed in gray with power hidden. What if he is like Annatar?" From his new vantage point, Elrohir suddenly understood these concerns from nearly two thousand years before. _

"_We will bar him from Imladris as we counseled Gil-Galad to bar Annatar from Lindon." Glorfindel was ever their guardian. _

"_If he has tricked Cirdan, then the need is more dire. Celebrian, perhaps you and the children should leave as planned. Their heritage may leave them vulnerable."_

"_I am not leaving you Meleth-nin." Celebrian stroked his hair. Elrohir blushed at seeing the depth of love between them. _

"_There is no safer place than the valley." Glorfindel whispered. "And no one better than you to guide them."_

"_I have the draught." Arwen appeared behind him._

_Xxxxxxx__xxxxxxxX_

"Welcome back Elrohir." Galadriel smiled and held his hand. "Where have your thoughts taken you?" Celeborn poured a half of a cup more Miruvor and passed it to him.

"Mithrandir draws near. I can sense him." Elrohir paused, realizing that he was now coming into his heritage from Luthien. How would he have reacted if this had happened earlier in his life? "I was thinking of when we first met him. Arwen was not pleased when his arrival made us delay our trip."

"Then Mithrandir had the gall to come with you to Lothlorien." Celeborn smiled at the memory.

"These new sensibilities are confusing and disorienting. How will Adar react when he arrives in the west and is suddenly faced with a large number of Maiar?"

"Your Adar has faced many things in his long life. Now he is called west. Do not fear for him."

_Xxxxxxxxx The night before the ship sails xxxxxxxxxX_

"They call it a hâlûr (fish fire)," Frodo said as he helped Bilbo straighten his tunic. "I think it is a gathering on the beach where they fill pots full of seafood and cook them over outdoor fires."

"I think you will enjoy seeing the size of the vessels they use to store the seaweed." Elrond entered carrying a tray with two steaming cups. "I heard you were not feeling well this morning Frodo." Sam was quiet and apprehensive as he watched the elf Lord. He knew Frodo also needed the healer's help, but he could not declare that aloud publically.

"I am feeling better now," he said, although he accepted the offered cup without complaint. Elrond nodded and moved to assess Bilbo's pulse and general well-being.

"No offense, Master Elrond, but I would much prefer even your draughts to the thought of eating seaweed," Bilbo declared.

"Oh, we will not be eating the seaweed. It is kept wet and fresh to act as a water source for keeping the seafood moist during cooking. Cirdan's people have prepared a pit of stones. They will start a wood fire with a precise amount of fuel over the stones. The fire heats them to the right cooking temperature but is designed to go out shortly after. Then the ashes are swept between the stones. The wet seaweed goes on next, followed by fish, mussels, and clams. Then everything is covered with a damp tarp.

"They steam the food from the sea." Bilbo realized.

"Yes, you are as quick as ever. It is indeed all an elaborate method for steaming." Elrond praised then asked. "You have not had further pains?"

"Ever since the new draught, I have been feeling well." Bilbo paused. "I heard that you were also unwell, Master Elrond." Elrond ignored the last comment.

"But Master Frodo has had trouble sleeping." Sam could not help adding. Frodo looked at him sharply.

"It is only because of the excitement of the journey." Frodo brushed off their concern. "Poor Sam will have to journey back alone because of me." Elrond moved to Frodo, addressing his concern amiably as he also took his pulse.

"Do not worry for Master Samwise. He will not need to travel alone." Elrond said amiably. "Others will be traveling the road back, including my son and Glorfindel. The wound on your neck is bothering you?"

"A little," Frodo admitted, although in truth it had been burning dreadfully and keeping him awake at night. Sam watched closely, for at other times he had observed a glow around the elf's hand. 'Elven magic' he had named it. But he did not observe anything unusual. Still, the elf lord's voice was soothing as he described other celebrations or 'hâlûr' that he had been at over his long life. There was a commotion in the hallway outside their room. Then a knock sounded.

"Come in." Frodo replied.

"Good afternoon, my fine hobbits." Erestor entered. Elrohir and Silsilalda followed.

"Adar, we were wondering where you went off to." Elrohir frowned slightly as he scrutinized his father.

"Well you have solved the mystery and have found me. I was just describing the first time you and Elladan had feasted at a hâlûr." Elrond laughed lightly while Elrohir grinned and stepped close.

"Elladan did not fare well that time." Elrohir watched as his Adar picked up the hobbits' empty cups and signal cryptically to Silsilalda.

"Frodo will need a draught this evening to help him sleep." Elrond's voice was light and even.

"It will be my pleasure to help you, Frodo." Silsilalda nodded as she moved to help Bilbo. "Are you both ready for the celebration?" The three hobbits nodded enthusiastically. Images from Elrond's descriptions had whet their appetite.

"It is time to go." Gwidian peered around the door. Glorfindel entered and executed a low bow to the hobbits.

"No, no!" cried Frodo, "We are not noble."

"What the three of you helped bring about_ is_ worthy of note and admiration." The light of Glorfindel's spirit was bright like his smile. They filed jovially out of the room. Elrond remained behind. Glorfindel waved Elrohir off and went over to his friend.

"I could not help them much." Elrond looked away to try to mask the sorrow and weariness that plagued him. Glorfindel helped him to his feet and drew him into a warm embrace, before stepping back to look the Peredhel over with a critical eye. Silsi and Elrohir both reported that Elrond had suffered a migraine and some bruising after the incident. The bruises were likely due to their efforts to keep Elrond from drowning and clear the water from his lungs. Elrond shrugged off their concern saying he would soon recover. Indeed, the migraine passed after two days, and the bruises were well-hidden by Elrond's rich robes.

"Elrond, you did help him as you have helped so many. It was your draughts and words that soothed and calmed them. Your caring and knowledge are enough." Glorfindel's light shown brightly, and he intoned his words with love. "It has been my great joy and privilege to be your friend. But come, now is a time for celebration. Tomorrow is a fortuitous day to take ship."

"Elrohir thinks so too." Elrond agreed as he followed Glorfindel out of the house and towards the beach.

"I noticed that you and Elrohir talked deep into the night." Glorfindel guided his friend down the steps on to the sand. Galdor and Cirdan waved them over to a raised platform set behind the main group. A great cheer rose on the beach as Elrond came forward. Belatedly, he realized that the majority of elves were from Imladris. They sang and some wept as their dear Lord moved to join Cirdan and Elrohir in what was clearly the place of honor.

"I believe you are called to give the toast." Cirdan handed Elrond a glass of the effervescent summer wine. Elrohir's eyes glinted with emotion.

"Tomorrow begins a new adventure. May Elbereth bless our journey and grant many happy reunions on the white shores of the west. May we ever remember the bonds of love and friendship we have forged in these lands." Nearly as one, the host of elves blessed Elbereth and drank. Just a small elderly hobbit was out of sync with the others. They laughed and wept and called for Bilbo to make the next toast. Sam marveled at how the elves rejoiced over the presence of Frodo and Bilbo. He was too humble to realize that the elves also rejoiced at his own presence.

"For millennia, we have lived under the constant threat of Sauron and his master Melkor. Evil was not ordinary but guided by a power older and more powerful than that of the elves. Although we were able to get the upper hand and hold back the darkness at times, we were never able to defeat it." Glorfindel explained as he sat down next to the hobbits. "By the hands of hobbits was his power undone. For that, we are forever grateful."

"But evil is not gone," Sam said as he remembered the scouring of the Shire.

"Ordinary evil will always be with us." Glorfindel agreed. "But in the people of this world, there is the strength and goodness to prevail. I think the leaders of the Shire will ever be wary and protective of the light, just as you have planted and will nourish the seeds of the Shire's renewal." Lindir's voice lilted over the crowd. He was announcing the start of the dance. The music rose, lovely and full of life, as the Imladriam rejoiced and joined in the dance.

"Where are the Galadhrim celebrating?" Elrond asked Erestor.

"They are at the inlet a mile from here down towards the Havens." Erestor paused and watched as Elrond remembered the spot. They had enjoyed many celebrations there. "Some changes were made in the ship assignments, and the Lady will only travel with a handful of her handmaidens and a few of the Galadhrim. Cirdan said that the ring bearers should all travel together on the smaller ship. Most of our belongings are already aboard."

"When did this happen? Did he give a reason?" Elrond was surprised by the change of plans.

"You were indisposed, suffering from migraines." Erestor paused. "Cirdan had word from Ulmo with the request."

"My Lord?" Salia approached with a bountiful dinner. "Cirdan sent up a tray."

"Thank you Salia." Erestor and Gwidian helped put the dishes out on their table. Glorfindel approached with the hobbits. Elrohir assisted Bilbo to his seat. Merwen and his wife Rhíloth completed their table. The rest of Imladris' former council sat in nearby as the plates of steamed clams, mussels and fish were passed around, followed by grilled summer corn, green beans and tomatoes. Dinner was a social and rousing affair. Many freely shared their dreams about tomorrow's journey, even without the copious drink that flowed from Telerin hospitality. The sun was just beginning to set when the dancing began in earnest. Elrohir would have joined in, had he not realized how weary his Adar was.

"Come Adar, it is best that you rest." Elrohir whispered. A supporting hand under his Adar's arm was all the coaxing that was required. Many bid the Peredhil a good night as they slowly walked back to Cirdan's villa and climbed the steps to the veranda.

"Adar?" Elrohir wondered as his father paused. Elrond leaned against the rail. He looked weary and drained. Elrohir crossed over to aid him. "There is no rush, Adar. Let us sit here for a little while." He led Elrond over to the settee and sat down beside him. Elrohir concentrated, reaching out with his fëa to assess and strengthen him. His gift was much weaker than his Adar's but he was able to ease some of the pain. A healing song, soft and calm sprang immediately from his lips as he focused on his Adar's irregular heart rhythm.

"Elrohir," Adar's voice was full of emotion. "I am sorry that I must leave you. I am so proud of you." Elrohir pulled his father closer. The elder peredhel's head now rested on his son's shoulder. Tears glistened in Elrohir's eyes.

Xxxxxxxxx _A morning to sail xxxxxxxxxX_

Dawn was just breaking when they gathered in front of Cirdan's house. The hobbits were the last to mount their ponies. The path down into the Havens was well traveled. Their group grew steadily as they passed houses where others had taken refuge this last week. It was a bittersweet trip for Elrond, who had walked these paths for a thousand years as a youth and then as Ereinion's Herald. The last trip here had been to escort his beloved Celebrian to the ship. Now it was his turn, and it was his son who escorted him for this last journey. Cirdan led the party down through the Havens.

"I know not what to expect on the other side." Elrond whispered, not realizing he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

"I would tell you what I remember, but change happens even in Valinor. Surely, after three ages, my recollections would have little in common with reality." Galadriel's words surprised her grandson, who was keeping a close eye on his Adar,

"If I know anything of Finarfin, he will be standing at the quay ready to receive you." Celeborn smiled. That thought had often consoled him, for he knew in his heart that Celebrian was warmly welcomed in the east. If there was healing to be had, Finarfin would make sure his granddaughter received it. Perhaps, Eru willing, his own Adar Galadhon or his brother Galathil, had been there to support Celebrian as well. In the distance, a row of beautiful ships anchored, but they were making directly for the smaller white ship docked in the place once reserved for royal visitors.

"Well met Mithrandir and Shadowfax!" Cirdan called out. The horse whinnied in greeting. "Finally, I am honored to meet the last of the fellowship."

"Pippin! Merry!" Frodo and Sam maneuvered their ponies around Celeborn and Galadriel, who had gladly slowed their pace to let the hobbits pass. Mithandir formally introduced the hobbits to the Shipwright. Elrohir smiled as he listened to the hobbits banter. Erestor helped Bilbo dismount and the elder hobbit ambled over to his kinsman.

"They need some privacy for their leave-taking." Galadriel turned to her husband. They walked hand in hand to the docks. Galadriel's hand-maidens were already aboard. Thirty were set to sail on this vessel. Celeborn looked back to where Elrohir was talking with Gandalf.

"_He is making Mithrandir aware of Elrond's condition." _Galadriel commented.

"_And of the encounter with Uinen." _Celeborn said with surety. _"I am sure he is extracting a promise from the wizard to protect Elrond from future danger from overzealous Maiar."_

"_Why do the Valar want the ring bearers together?" _Celeborn mused. Only five of Elrond's trusted companions from Imladris would be boarding this boat. These included Elrond's guard Cirulian, Erestor and his wife, and the healer Silsilalda and her husband. Ten of the Galadhrim sailed with his wife. With the sailors, the vessel was filled to capacity. Celeborn turned again to embrace his wife. They had spent the last weeks saying their goodbyes, but it could never be enough.

"_I will come as soon as my duties are over." _Celeborn intoned mind-to-mind.

"_When might that be?"_ Galadriel could not stop the question.

"_Estel – hope – dear heart. This is what Eru asks of us. You return home on your own terms, having accomplished much in these lands. Our people will need your guidance in the west." _Of that Celeborn was sure. The culture of the elves of Lothlorien was a unique blend of Sindar, Silvan and Noldor ideas and customs. _"How will we adapt among the Noldor of Aman?"_

"_Aman is a large land. There is room for our people." _Galadriel reassured him with a gentle kiss. _"Room eventually to welcome any of the elves who chose now to remain with you in East Lorien. When you hear the call west, I will be there to welcome you."_

"_I doubt we will dock with the other boats at __Tol Eressëa__. I am sure that the Valar will want us to answer to them at __Máhanaxar."_

"_Surely, they will grant you time to recover at Lorien. Elrond and you, not to mention Frodo, are in need of healing." _

"_I am called west. Trust in that. It is enough for now." _Galadriel comforted him. None witnessed their last few moments together. When all were safely aboard, the gangplank was removed. Then Cirdan's elves unfastened the moorings one by one: the bowline, forward breast line, quarter spring line and finally the stern line. Cirdan waved as the captain slowly eased the vessel away from the quay. Then the shipwright strode back to join Elrohir, Glorfindel and the three hobbits. Together the watched the white ship sail from the harbor.

"I was surprised when you decided to remain." Cirdan said to Glorfindel.

"Charges from my King's line still remain." Glorfindel replied, although the smile did not quite reach his eyes. He was grieved at the parting from his dear friend. Elrohir was uncharacteristically silent as were the hobbits.

Xxxxxxxxx

They stood at the bow and looked back on the fading shore of the Havens. The figures of three hobbits were soon too small to be seen, though Frodo knew they were still standing there. In the end, even Glorfindel's golden light faded away.

"When one loses sight of land, it is usually a sign to move to the front of the ship. It is time to look forward." Elrond smiled at the hobbits.

"Perhaps there is also time for a nap before lunch." Bilbo yawned.

"Come, Uncle, I saw an empty chair for you to lounge." Frodo helped his Uncle to rise and with Elrond's help they proceeded slowly around the deck.

"Have you traveled often by ship?" Frodo wondered.

"Early in the second age, I often traveled to Numenor to visit my brother." Elrond smiled. "But I was never much of a sailor, myself. I think Elros and Cirdan were disappointed."

"We all have our own talents." Bilbo's comments startled them both.

"Yes, you are quite right." Elrond agreed. They settled Bilbo in a comfortable chair and Elrond tucked a light blanket around the elderly hobbit. Then Frodo and Elrond leaned upon the rail looking out at the horizon.

"I enjoyed myself too much last night." Frodo divulged. "I would take a nap like Bilbo but…" He trailed off.

"But your shoulder and neck are bothering you. Unfortunately we need to wait at least an hour longer before it is safe to try a different draught." Elrond grimaced slightly and rubbed his temple.

"You are unwell too?"

"The music of the sea sounds very loud to me." Elrond admitted.

"Elves must have very good hearing, for I do not hear anything." Frodo turned in amazement.

"It is quiet to me too." Erestor approached with a tray of refreshments. "Shall I ask Silsilalda to brew some willow bark tea for you?" The tea was often favored for headaches and migraines. Elrond tensed, again, the strange music seemed to grow in volume.

"The song is for you. She is calling you. Why do you not answer?" Mithrandir approached them. "I had not thought you to be so rude."

"She is calling me?" Elrond turned in surprise. Erestor and Frodo exchanged puzzled looks for neither understood the wizard's words.

"Little wonder she sent a wave splashing over you! You should at least acknowledge her." Mithrandir paused as comprehension dawned. "You cannot understand?"

"No, I can sense colors and feelings but I understand little of the words. My vocabulary was learned during the War of Wrath and consists mostly of war strategy." Elrond paused as he focused more deeply on the song. He grimaced in pain. Erestor moved next to him out of concern.

"She is angry or frustrated." Elrond translated what he felt from the song.

"As I would be, if you refused to answer me." Mithrandir reasoned.

"How do I answer?" Elrond gaped in wonder. "Can you teach me?" The white wizard peered long at the peredhel, noting the fearful stares of Erestor and the soft footsteps of Elrond's other guardians.

"Your heritage is ever a surprise to me. I know not how much I can teach you, nor how much you can learn given the injuries to your spirit." He took Elrond's hand and they both turned to face the ocean. "Let us answer her together."


	9. Chapter 9 Caring for one another

_Xxxxxxxxx Mithond xxxxxxxxxX_

The hobbits had already departed, but Celeborn, Glorfindel and Elrohir still stood at the quay. It was late afternoon. The sun was starting to sink, although it was still bright out. Cirdan needed to step away to talk with his councilors.

"I still fear for them." Elrohir admitted. "Adar was deeply worried about Frodo. For he thought the pattern and timing of his ailments seemed to indicate some darker force."

"The black breath also still affects many more elves, men and hobbits than I would have expected, given that Sauron was defeated over two years ago." Glorfindel gave Elrohir a pointed look. The Peredhel had the grace to blush and look away.

"Galadriel also felt that some evil still lingered and that some lost to the darkness over the ages still were trapped unable to heed Namo's call. I think finding the lost ones is part of my task. Perhaps it is a small part of why you both were also called to remain." The others gasped at Celeborn's revelations. "Maybe it is also the reason your heritage has awoken."

"I know not what my calling here is. I will take solace in the fact that through meditation, it might be revealed to me." Elrohir paused then voiced his most pressing concern. "Uinen's song diminishes. She must be traveling away from us."

"That she leaves our proximity the same time as the ships is likely no coincidence." Glorfindel looked out over the sea. If Elrohir did not know better, he might have guessed that the legendary warrior from Gondolin could still see the ship.

"You think she follows Adar?" Concern seeped into Elrohir's voice.

"The ring bearers also spoke of the necessity of taking Celembrior's creations west, for any remnants of Sauron's power would be drawn to them."

"Is that the reason that the Valar asked them to take the ship together? Are they still burdened with responsibilities?" Elrohir cried.

"It may be one of the reasons." Glorfindel paused, thinking of how to delicately address the next issue. "I am sure Uinen and Ossë would be assigned to protect and guard their ship."

"But their songs together would be nearly deafening." Panic seeped into Elrohir's voice, for he had not yet come to terms with his shocking meeting with the sea-swept Maia.

"Fear not Elrohir. You spoke with Mithrandir. He is aware of the situation." Celeborn reminded him.

"I am not so sure." Elrohir shook his head. "Mithrandir was intrigued by what happened but did not really comprehend. I mean to say, he thought we – Adar in particular – were enigmas."

"Remember, they do not travel alone. Erestor, Cirulian and Galadriel will watch out for Elrond, and he will do the same for them and for the hobbits."

_Xxxxxx The ring bearer's ship xxxxxxX_

"Your heritage is ever a surprise to me. I know not how much I can teach you nor how much you can learn given the injuries to your spirit." He took Elrond's hand, and they both turned to face the ocean. "Let us answer her together."

At first, Elrond did not feeling anything. The sound of Uinen's call was so loud in his head that it disrupted all else. He tried to focus inward as he did to speak mind-to-mind with Glorfindel or with his family.

"_We communicate with our whole spirit." _Came Mithrandir's voice in his head. No, it was not Mithrandir. The spirit he sensed held remnants of a fëa not tied to a body.

"_Olorin," _Elrond realized in that moment that the Istari were truly handicapped, their power and spirit truncated to fit in the bodily forms that had been built for their appointed tasks. _"Was this truncation, this loss akin to an amputation? Maybe this was what drove Saruman to turn to darkness?"_

"_You are too kind to try to find some excuse with which to blunt the horror of his treachery." _Olorin responded, his words rebounding throughout Elrond's whole body. _"Yes, you begin to understand. Maiar are not tied to the body. It is but a shell we sometimes put on. For the Istari, it is a shell that the Valar wroth for us. In our true form, we communicate with our whole spirit. We are light, music and thought."_

"_There is more than one song!" _Elrond exclaimed in surprise. His heart raced as his soul brushed against such power.

"_Aye, do you know how many?"_

"_I hear the soft song of your spirit." _Elrond paused as the Istar mentally agreed. Mithrandir's song was indeed dampened by the Valar before he was sent to these lands. _"Uinen's is different and in harmony with hers is a wild and rash song – her husband." _Elrond realized.

"_Yes, both Uinen and Ossë are near. Shall we greet them?" _Mithrandir paused. The song of welcome trembled through him, causing both a sharp pain in his chest and a deep sense of joy of reunion. The answering songs of Uinen and Ossë doubled both of these feelings. Elrond pressed his hand to his heart in an effort to deal with the pain. His knees buckled and he would have fallen were it not for the strong arms that supported him. His mind dimly registered the presence of Erestor and Galadriel.

"Stop this, Mithrandir." Galadriel commanded. "He is a Peredhel. Do not push him further than his spirit and hroar can stand." The songs of the Maiar – of Mithrandir, Uinen and Ossë paused, as if they bowed to the commands of this granddaughter of Finwë. Elrond gasped at the pain.

"This way," a small voice urged him. It was Frodo speaking, Elrond realized belatedly. "He should sit down." He felt them leading him backwards.

"_You belong with us." _The wind caressed his spirit. Its call was relentless and as powerful, nay more powerful than a single Maia. Where did this power come from? Was it from spirits of those who had lost their way to Mandos? He had almost lost himself in its beguiling melody. His bond and long friendship with Glorfindel somehow drew him back. It would be oh so easy to give himself over to it, to be engulfed and welcomed into a whole greater than himself. To never again need to make those difficult decisions alone.

"_You hold my heart Meleth-nin." _The passion that he and Celebrian had once shared flared in response. He was so close to seeing her again. Of that, his heart was sure.

"_She left you." _A new dark voice emerged in the wind. It was of the black breath and laughed in the tones of those who had tortured him. These were the sounds associated with pain in the deep chasms of the most trying experiences over a life long lived. _"__You mongrel. You mutant of the three kindred, none want to truly claim you. She will see your true spirit and reject you."_ The voice laughed low and guttural. _"Move aside, Peredhel. You shall __turn to dust like all the members of your house." _He felt more than heard Frodo's gasp of pain. In that moment, he realized that countless spirits were lost in the wind. Among those was now the remnant that Sauron had forged into his ring.

"_You shall not have this one." _Elrond's declared defiantly to the wind as he reached out with his fëa to protect Frodo. His spirit called to Elbereth for help.

"_If you deny me, then you shall die." _The darkness shot forward, forceful and swift as an arrow, intent on the shimmering spirits of the Peredhel and of the hobbit that he shielded.

Xxxxxxx

"An ill wind rises." Galadriel declared loudly, startling both Frodo and Erestor with whom she had been speaking. "Mithrandir, be wary!" The Peredhel showed no sign that he heeded her words. Instead, he appeared to sink and wrap his arms around the short hobbit. The Istar seemed frozen, as if communing with those beyond their sight. "Mithrandir! Still something remains of the dark lord of Mordor." Galadriel cried as she too reached out to buffer Frodo from some unseen force. Galadriel and Elrond combined their powers to hold off the attack.

"You shall not have this one!" Elrond declared.

It was then that Erestor sensed it plainly, so strongly was it related to the darkness that ever buffeted Lothlórien and Imladris over the millennia. It was a piece of that darkness, still potent enough to destroy but not the nihilistic and domineering force that ruled in Mordor.

Erestor gasped as a light flashed out seemingly from the air. The power of Elrond, Galadriel gleamed brightly, and if Erestor had not imagined it, the hobbit's innate power shimmered with them. The air was dark next to their bright souls as if they had trapped whatever it was that sought to injure them.

"_A fragment of our brother's being?" Ossë had worked closely with Mairon ages ago. In fact, the turbulent Maia of the sea had once been enticed to Melkor's service. _

"_Is he not in Mandos?" Uinen asked as they searched for the darkness, which hide itself in the myriad of strains of the breeze. _

"_He had poured part of his essence into the ring. What happened to that essence when the ring was destroyed?" Mithrandir asked, even as he moved closer to the elves and Frodo. _

Erestor was unaware of the Maiar's conversation. He just saw a flash of white as Mithrandir ran towards the other ring bearers. Behind him other elves gasped and moved backwards as a vortex of water rose from the side of the ship. Shapes solidified into two entities. One was of a fierce warrior, taller and more comely than any elf. Next to him was the beautiful Maia Uinen. Her water-colored hair was woven into long braids that gave off rainbows in the sun. Erestor could not be sure what the three Maiar were doing as they stood seemingly silent around the other ring bearers. The air tingled with power. Gray smoke was forced together, concentrated to a dark mass that floated in the air in the center of circle formed by Elrond, Galadriel, Mithrandir, Ossë and Uinen.

"You have done well." A loud voice boomed through them. Its echo seemed to shake Erestor's teeth. "I will take that. It is not meant for you. My brother will deal with it." As to which brother Ulmo referred to, Erestor could not say. His mind registered the Vala's presence, though what he sensed from where he knelt with his head bowed was pure unadulterated power of the Vala. Erestor raised his eyes momentarily to reconcile what his ears told him. The music of the sea emanated from the towering figure that was clothed in armor colored in the greens and blues of the sea. The famed Ulumúri horns were in one of his massive hands. The other stretched out towards them. The song beckoned nay commanded, and the dark remnant sped towards his outstretched fingers. Erestor turned away as the light flashed blindingly. He was not sure if he imagined it, but he thought that he heard Ulmo whisper in his mind.

"_I have called you. You are needed in the west." _A hand grasped his shoulder. He pivoted to see Cirulian standing next to him.

"Erestor?" The Teleri's eyes held concern.

Xxxxxxxxx Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX

"You are pacing. I thought that was a habit of the Edain." Glorfindel noted as the silver lord paced the length of Cirdan's veranda. They had postponed their journey after Cirdan's foresight - or vision.

"It has been nearly two days."

"She will contact you as soon as she is able." Glorfindel reassured him. "Were there not many days during these last years that the tables were reversed and you were unable to contact her?"

"I was incapacitated." Celeborn's voice hitched as he squeezed his hand into a fist and slowly exhaled. Glorfindel grimaced at having said exactly the wrong thing to the Sindar Lord. But to Celeborn, it seemed as if the world shifted suddenly. In the next moment, he was staring into the depths of azure eyes, which he knew like his own flesh. Yet in their depth glinted a weariness that frightened him. He floated above her. His spirit touching hers mingling until they were one being in mind and thought and breathe.

"_Meleth-nin." _ They spoke simultaneously, their thoughts and memories merging in a way that was beyond their prior experience. A moment and yet like a flash of infinity. They exhaled and he felt his spirit leak slowly from her hroar. Suddenly regaining his own separateness, he focused on their bond gifting her all the love and strength that he could spare. _"Meleth-nin." _The threads that bound them so tightly suddenly frayed. Wisps of vapor, clouds and wind fluttered through him sending waves of chills down his spine. The clouds thickened engulfing him in a bright but impenetrable fog.

"Celeborn, heed my voice." Someone was calling him. An old voice, much older than him admonished, "That is correct. And you should pay attention." The white fog cleared to the sight of a white beard as dark eyes assessed him.

"Cirdan," he realized abruptly. He was lying on a settee outside. The moon glinted above them. He blinked dazedly and yet, he felt the glint of his wife's fëa against his own. Somehow, his spirit was sure that their bond would not be severed when her ship entered the straight way. He gasped in awe and astonishment. "The Belain are blessed."

Xxxxxxxx

"_He needs time. He will recover."_ Silsilalda had said. Yet, the healer's predictions did not ease Erestor's worry. He had spent the last three days caring for his friend and could not sense any change. Frodo had not come to any serious harm. It seemed that Galadriel and Elrond had taken the bulk of the attack. The Lady had woken a few hours ago. Her friends were ecstatic. He looked back at the still figure in the cot and was shocked to see gray eyes looking back.

"Elrond! You are awake!" Erestor exclaimed joyously and rose to his feet. Elrond blinked dazedly but did not respond. Instead, the Peredhel rubbed his chest. Erestor knelt at the side of the cot, steadying himself as the boat shifted suddenly. "Elrond, mellon-nin, how are you feeling?" He grasped the Peredhel free hand firmly. Slowly, silver eyes focused on him. In his long life, Erestor could rarely recall being able to read his friend's thoughts and emotions. But as he concentrated on the dazed silver eyes, he felt Elrond's confusion. He could almost hear disparate melodies clashing dissonantly. Erestor had taken care of too many others under Elrond's careful tutelage over the years to let his worry show on his face. Instead, he gave a calm smile and spoke softly.

"Elrond, it is good to have you back among the waking world. You must be hungry. Can I get you anything?" Silver eyes lit with recognition.

"Erestor?" Elrond croaked, his throat dry.

"Good morning," Erestor said wryly because it was already mid-day. But there was no need to worry the weary elf. "Welcome back." When Elrond did not respond, he continued slowly. "How are you feeling?" He squeezed Elrond's hand and watched nervously as he waited for his friend to take in everything. He resolved to alert Silsilalda that Elrond was possibly having chest pains or perhaps his bonds to his family were weakening, which was to be expected when sailing; however, they were only a few days from the havens and such effects were usually reported once ships entered the straight path.

"Thirsty," came Elrond's soft reply.

"Well that is easily remedied. Can I help you to sit up?" At Elrond's nod, he helped him to swing his legs over the side of the cot and sit up. Elrond's face had lost all color at the simple movement – but that was to be expected after such a long sleep. "These flimsy sailors cots are only good for lying down. Come sit at the table. I am sure Gwidian will be here soon with food." Erestor was happy to see some color return to Elrond's cheeks. They rose and crossed the room to where a small table was fastened securely to the wall. Erestor poured a cup of water for his friend then moved to get the thermos that Silsilalda had left with the healing draught. Elrond gulped the water greedily, his dry parched lips welcoming the refreshment. Once he finished, Erestor refilled his glass with the healing draught. Elrond lifted the glass but paused before bringing it to his lips.

"Frodo," he whispered. His eyes glinted with concern as the memory came back. "Is Frodo alright?" Erestor reached over and squeezed the hand that lay on the table.

"Frodo is fine." Erestor said definitively. "You and Galadriel protected him from harm. How were you able to sense the danger when Mithrandir, Uinen and Ossë did not?"

"They helped." Elrond recalled slowly. "Galadriel and I have been fighting this enemy for two ages. We sensed it sooner."

"But they did not detect it early enough." Erestor tried to hide his displeasure, but Elrond sensed it nonetheless and gave him a small smile.

"Peace Erestor. We elves still have our own abilities and powers. We must rejoice that we were able to prevent Frodo from taking further injury. He has been through more than enough. The darkness that sought to injure him has departed." Elrond frowned slightly. "Though I must admit the end is somewhat hazy to me." A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Gwidian came in bearing a tray with food.

"Elrond, it is good to see you awake." She smiled as she brought the tray over. Gwidian gave her husband a pointed look. Erestor silently agreed to skillfully switch the conversation to other things.

"The Valar Ulmo appeared and took the darkness away." Erestor laid his hand gently on Elrond's arm. For the Peredhel had begun to tremble ever so slightly. "He was well pleased with your efforts and with Galadriel. But let us dwell no more on those issues. We are sailing west to where many eagerly await us." He passed Elrond the plate with cheese and the lasts of the fresh strawberries from Mithlond.

"I wonder if we could develop a way to transport fruit without it spoiling or at least keep things fresh for longer?" Erestor smiled. "I know many who would love to have ripe berries for more of our trip."

"Perhaps there is a way to combine some of the different methods used in Imladris, Gondor and the Havens." Elrond postulated. They were soon discussing some of the more interesting innovations that they had seen in their last journey to Gondor. Gwidian's eyes glinted in amusement as she listened to the things the two ellyn observed in Gondor. She interjected at points, for as a female who was characterized by the Gondorians as one of Arwen's 'handmaids', she had been able to access different parts of the citadel that were off-limits to the visiting 'royalty'.

"What is so amusing?" Elrond turned to her.

"It is amazing how differently we all see the world." Gwidian would have elaborated but Silsilalda entered.

"Good day, my Lord. It is good to see you awake." The healer placed a small tray with salves and powders on the table. "May I examine you?" She held her hands out. Elrond paused then turned to Erestor and Gwidian.

"Please grant us some privacy." He said softly, though it was clear that they were being politely dismissed. Gwidian rose and gathered the empty dishes. Erestor gave a slight bow.

"Rest and recover mellon-nin." Erestor said before exiting the room.


	10. Chapter 10 Journey over seas

Arien had already journeyed halfway through sky. The autumn days grew shorter, and her vessel of flame was beginning its descent. Elrond did not look directly at her, for the sun was too strong for even elven eyes. Instead, he focused on the horizon under Arien's flaming splendor, sensing the mystery and power of the Maia that was also part of the Sun. The creation stories of the sun were not the whole story, he realized.

"_Perhaps those tales were all that elves of that time could comprehend. How many millions of leagues separated us from Arien?" _ He wondered. However far it was, he could still hear her song clearly. In the cacophony that was the songs of Ainur, the sea had its own music, much softer than the wild syncopated song of Uinen. He grimaced as her song suddenly rang more clearly in his head. _"If one of my patients described these things, I would think they were not fully in charge of their faculties. Surely, the sea is calm and quiet to most of those aboard. Only Mithrandir and I hear."_ The melodic alto voice of Uinen rang. In her long sequence, Elrond could only pick out a few discrete vocalizations. One he associated with an image of waves and stormy seas.

"_Please Elbereth, bless us with calm seas." _He prayed. Ossë's deep thundering song sent shivers through him, but he could pick out nothing from the song as it was juxtaposed against Uinen's, Arien's, Ulmo's and the sea. His head ached, and it took much will power not to allow others to notice how much the throbbing pain behind his eyes and in his temples was bothering him. _"Dare I risk more of the draught?" _He thought they had packed ample supplies of healing powders and ointments. He closed his eyes for a moment, but in blotting out the sense of sight, his hearing seemed far too keen.

_Xxxxx Across the deck xxxxxX_

"Would you like some tea, my Lady?" Faelthel carried a tray with tea and aurcram. The buttery sweet breads were a favorite among the Imladhrim and much loved by the hobbits.

"Yes, thank you. Will you join us too?" Galadriel turned her dear friend who smiled and motioned instead for the hobbits.

"No, we are in the middle of preparing another treat."

"You arranged for afternoon tea!" Bilbo was inordinately pleased and jovially moved to join the Lady at the table. "You must let us help with the food preparations tomorrow!" Frodo quickly moved forward to help his uncle with his chair then took the seat next to him.

"_Cook will not appreciate a hobbit in his domain." _Faelthel thought. Her friend's laughter rang in her head, although outwardly, Galadriel was calm and ethereal.

"_Nay, he is master of his domain, even if, just for the time-being, it is a small ship's galley." _Galadriel agreed silently before calling to her son-in-law who stood at the rail looking out over the ocean. "Elrond, come and join us." When he did not respond, Cirulian stepped forward to grasp Elrond's shoulder.

"Lord Elrond," the Teleri called. "I am to inform you that it is tea time." Elrond turned, nodded and then smiled at the group seated around the table. "Are you well?" Cirulian whispered.

"A storm approaches." Elrond whispered. "It is yet some days off. We should let the captain know." Cirulian nodded as he pulled the chair out for his Lord and friend.

"Your son informed us that you favored vanilla aurcram." Bilbo declared jovially as Frodo poured the tea.

"Will you join us too Cirulian?" Frodo asked. The guard looked momentarily stunned and scanned the area as if he were expecting danger.

"I think it is safe to let down your guard for awhile." Elrond coaxed. His eyes glinted with amusement at the guard's predicament.

"Thank you, I will join you." Cirulian said although he seemed uncomfortable at the request. Elrond gently brushed the younger hobbits arm as he whispered his inquiry.

"Did the new draught help any?" Elrond concentrated on song of the hobbit's faer.

"Somewhat." Frodo could not keep the disappointment from his voice.

"Keep track of how it did or did not help. That information will greatly aide us in finding the right healing herbs." Elrond reasoned, trying to think of ways to keep his patient optimistic. The long discussion they had had about the motivations and reasons behind Frodo's choice for sailing remained foremost in his mind. Some aboard equated sailing with dying. For would they not now be dead to the world they had all grown up in and loved? Elrond could not deny that he was more than a little empathetic to that view. Certainly, the March warden and his brothers, who had stayed behind with Celeborn, felt that way.

"Healing is like trial and error?" Frodo's question interrupted his thoughts.

"Our individual physiologies influence the efficacy and therapeutic index of different medicinal agents." Elrond explained. "I have treated more than a few hobbits in my years, but none of those hobbits have had wounds and injuries like yours."

"Then it may not heal?" Frodo turned away in despair.

"I did not say that. Nor do I think that." Elrond said gently. "Where we are going there are those much more knowledgeable. With time and care, I believe you will be healed."

_Xxxxxxx Several weeks later xxxxxxX_

The ship lurched suddenly making Erestor reach out to hold the wall for balance. The storms had finally broken, and today's skies were clear, although the sea was still rough. About half of the passengers on their ship had suffered from seasickness. In some cases, it was severe. Erestor and Gwidian were lucky and were not affected by the ship's constant motion.

"Worse than a mountain in a storm." Muttered someone behind them. Erestor was surprised to see the elderly hobbit.

"Good morning Master Baggins." Erestor greeted him. "Where are you heading off to, if I may inquire?"

"These rough seas are giving my Frodo a very hard time. But with the waves starting to settle down a bit, I thought I might make a special mushroom soup. It is guaranteed to whey a hobbit's appetite.

"I know a few others who enjoy savory soups. Perhaps I may be of assistance?" Erestor offered.

"Yes, yes, help is always welcome." Bilbo smiled and turned expectantly to Gwidian.

"I would be delighted to watch, but cooking is not my forte."

_Xxxxxx Back on the deck xxxxxxX_

"I would like to hold down more than just these herbs." Frodo grumbled at Silsilalda.

"Indeed, it is a scant existence for a hobbit." Frodo jumped at the sound of Elrond's voice. It was louder than normal for the typically dulcet tenor.

"Pardon me. I did not mean to startle you." Elrond apologized and moved to sit next to the brave hobbit. Frodo was surprised to see Elrond accept a cup of the same healing herbs from Silsilalda.

"You were also under the weather Master Elrond?" Frodo gawked. The noble elf seemed painfully pale. Frodo could not say why this comforted him. Perhaps because he had thought he was the only one to suffer during the last ten days.

"If you mean that I was also seasick, then yes." Elrond sighed then swallowed a sip of the brew. "Elves are not immune. At least we have a small reprieve."

"You think there will be more storms!" Frodo gasped. The last week had been torturous.

"Although the storms and strong winds bring the seasickness, at least they are pushing us in the right direction. Hopefully, they have cut many days off our journey." The ship lurched suddenly. Frodo gripped the handle of his chair hard and realized that Elrond grimaced and closed his eyes. "Thankfully Bilbo does not suffer from this malady. Where did your dear Uncle go?"

"He was off to the kitchens and said that he knew just the thing to settle my head and spur my appetite, now that I am starting to feeling better." Frodo's stomach suddenly growled.

"He will undoubtedly be directing the cooks soon!" Elrond's silver eyes lit with amusement.

"I had wondered why we did not see you much this last week." Frodo continued curiously.

"Forgive me for not coming to aid you. But I am confident in Healer Silsilalda's abilities. She was the head of Imladris' school for the past age and is exceedingly skilled." Elrond praised the elleth, who was staring hard at the elf Lord. For an instant, Frodo thought perhaps there was something wrong with the venerable Lord of Imladris. But then Silsi smiled and turned her attention back to Frodo.

"I thank you for your confidence." Silsi ran her hand over the back of his neck, and then began to massage it gently. "The muscles here are cramping, and I still sense something amiss." Silsi looked over to her colleague, but Elrond was no longer paying attention and seemed to be lost in contemplation.

"Do you think there might be a piece of the stinger still in there?" Frodo shivered with horror as the memory of the battle with Shelob surfaced.

"No, no, my dear hobbit, I did not mean that." Silsilalda soothed. "But the flesh remembers the trauma and there may be some damage to the tissue. I think we must investigate it further once you are fully recovered from this seasickness." She motioned to Cirulian who nodded and walked over to check on Elrond.

"You are sure there is no trace of its stinger that remains?" Frodo's voice waivered.

"Yes, Frodo, a piece of stinger, we elves would readily detect." Silsilalda repeated.

"For that I am thankful." Frodo shuddered.

I am grateful that the weather has improved." Bilbo walked cautiously. His used his cane to purchase extra balance on the deck. Gwidian and Erestor were close behind. Erestor kept a watchful eye on the elderly hobbit while Gwidian carried a try with refreshments.

"How long will our journey be?" Frodo asked Elrond.

"The winds carried us far, and perhaps shortened our journey by a week, but there is likely still a month to go." Erestor replied even as he looked with concern at the Peredhel. Galadriel leaned across the table to touch the Peredhel's hand.

"Elrond, you are far away ion-nin." Frodo and Bilbo were surprised by the Lady's endearment. But then of course, they had yet to meet Celebrian. "Share your thoughts with us."

"We are nearing the site where Numenor once existed." Elrond said slowly. "Though now the lands must lie at the bottom of the ocean and are part of Ulmo's domain. Usually, the waters calmed once we drew closer to Numenor."

"How many times did you travel there?" Frodo wondered.

"Five times." Elrond laughed. "And each time the seasickness grew worse. Elros would tease me that perhaps we were not really related."

_XXXXXXX The straight path xxxxxxxx_

The seas foamed with jagged waves as the ship drew closer and closer to what seemed a wall of darkness.

"Dear Elbereth!" Gwidian shook with fear and clung to Erestor. Few were brave enough to venture out on deck, but both of them wanted to witness the moment the ship crossed into the straight path. The ship ahead had already disappeared through the veil of darkness. Erestor tightened his hold on his wife.

"I had thought the passage would be more welcoming. To think that Naneth went alone! So many ill and injured traveled this route. How many perished on the journey?"

"Your Naneth was not alone." Gwidian's voice shook as utter darkness engulfed them. Yet a heartbeat later they emerged into a seemingly grey world. The only color was water below, which looked an unnatural shade of green. Wind swooped down blowing hard.

"Is this real?" Gwidian wondered as she turned to touch her husband's lips with her hand. His skin was shaded grey. There was not even a red tinge to his lips.

"I had not heard mention of this phenomenon." Erestor said in wonder.

"Who would send word of this back? Who would believe it?" Silsilalda's question startled them.

"You ventured out too?"

"Most are peering warily through their windows." She smiled wryly then added. "Including two most curious and brave hobbits." She gasped as the air shifted and grabbed the rail as the ship dropped suddenly. The next breath of wind painted the sky blue with colors more intense than they had yet experienced. A boom like thunder sounded as they emerged from the gray tunnel of the straight way into the seas of Valinor. The deck of the ship ahead of them was filled with bewildered passengers, who now gazed awestruck at the sight before them. Their journey was a success! They had safely passed into the West. One by one, elves emerged onto their deck with similar expressions.

"Well, who would have guessed!" Bilbo ambled out onto the deck. Elrond steadied him and helped him to a chair situated near the rail. Frodo came too, breathing deeply of the sweet air of West.

"Welcome to the West!" Erestor called. A cheer rang out in answer. Soon, all were happily making plans and taking bets on how much longer the journey might last.

"I hope it will only be a day or two more. I long to feel dry land under my toes." Gwidian exclaimed. Erestor hardily agreed, as did the hobbits. Elrond did not comment. He stood immobile next to the hobbits.

Bilbo turned to look more closely at the suddenly silent Elf Lord. Elrond was markedly pale. His silver eyes were unfocused. Bilbo was suddenly alarmed that his companion was not breathing. He was about to cry for help when Elrond's guard stepped closer and squeezed Elrond's shoulder.

"Lord Elrond!" The elf lord drew in a gasping breath and then another. Bilbo saw Mithrandir and Galadriel turn from where they stood against the rails. The white lady normally serene face held concern. Mithrandir whispered something to her.

"Ernil-nin," Cirulian called more loudly. Elrond reached up to brush the Cirulian's hand as if he was surprised that the Teleri was so near. The Lady of Light turned to seek out Silsilalda's aid while Mithrandir crossed over to them.

"Cirulian?" Cirulian grasped Elrond's hand firmly even as he guided him to sit.

"Are you well, my Lord?"

"I am no longer Lord of the Valley." The silver eyes were still focused out on the horizon. Bilbo saw Cirulian grin then heard him repeat the strange title.

"Are you well, Ernil-nin?" The Teleri said loudly. Elrond's eyes flashed.

"I do not take that title."

"I do believe many will insist on it in these lands, Prince Elrond." Cirulian said solemnly, although mirth was in his eyes.

"There are too many royal houses and too many princes in those lands. Besides Doriath, Gondolin and Sirion are long gone. I doubt that the title will be recognized."

"Ah, but it is my duty to make sure that you arrive safely. Although I have heard that most ships arrive at Tol Eressëa. I do not think it will be long before we can travel to the mainland and to Alqualondë. Surely, King Olwë would grant a grand tour to a Prince of Doriath and his faithful Teleri guard." Cirulian said solemnly. Bilbo saw the noble Lord of Imladris stare flabbergasted at his guard. But even more shocking was the pure laughter that followed. Mithrandir now stepped forward. He was carrying Elrond's silver harp.

"Convey to us some of what you hear." Mithrandir pushed the harp in the Peredhel's hands. Galadriel raised her eyebrow at that request. Surely, if this was due to the Peredhel's Maiar heritage, then Mithrandir should know what he was hearing. Silsilalda also looked on in concern while Bilbo and Frodo gaped in surprise.

Elrond closed his eyes and began to play, softly at first. But what followed was unlike any song that Galadriel, Cirulian, Silsilalda or the hobbits had ever heard. It was eerie and atonal at first, but at times playful and cascading like falling water. The music moved and dove into a tantalizingly melodic section only to spiral into a cry then scamper into sea depths of long low tones. Perspiration beaded on Elrond's brow. Galadriel could sense the strain on his spirit and motioned to Mithrandir. The Istar stepped forward and put his hand on Elrond's arm.

"Stop," he ordered firmly. "It is enough. I had not thought you would perceive us so deeply yet not mark the individual words. You Peredhil are truly a mystery to us." Mithrandir paused as Elrond lowered his bow and turned pained silver eyes towards him. "Come I will help you build the defenses around your mind and shield yourself from harm." Mithrandir helped Elrond to his feet. He turned to Silsilalda and Cirulian. "He is safe with me. Stay here. I will call you if we need you." Then he guided the Peredhel below. In fact, it was several days until Frodo saw Elrond again. Erestor explained that Elrond heard the songs of the Maiar, and there were many Maiar in these lands. The excitement of the next few days hid the Lord's absence.

"Are those the famed swan ships?" Frodo asked excitedly. Indeed, a small fleet of the Teleri swan ships sailed towards them.

"Yes, it appears our party has been expected." Galadriel helped Bilbo move closer to the rail. "Look beyond them. Can you see the white spires of Avallónë? I believe the ships will guide us into the harbor of Tol Eressëa." They waited and watched as one by one the Teleri ships moved to pair with one from Middle Earth. It was not long before their own captain was sending signals back and forth to one of these boats.

"We are to be boarded." The captain's shocking announcement brought most of the ships passengers to the deck. "Our sister ships will be docking at Tol Eressëa; however, the ring bearers ship has been summoned to Alqualondë. Apart from the ring bearers, those who wish to disembark at Tol Eressëa must transfer vessels at this time."

"Will your Naneth be waiting for you on the island?" Gwidian whispered.

"I will not leave Elrond now." Erestor paused. "I think my Naneth would understand. She may even know that Elrond is called to Alqualondë and may be waiting for us there." Those that sought passage to Tol Eressëa included some of the crew, the Galadhrim chef, and several of Galadriel's handmaidens. They gathered their belongings on the deck as one of the swan ships approached. A smaller rowboat ferried eight of the Teleri sailors to their vessel.

"Hail, friends. I am charged by my King Olwë to board your vessel and guide you into the royal dock on the swan harbor. With whom do I speak?"

"This is Galdor of the Teleri from the Havens." The captain stepped forward. "I am the Captain and charged by my Lord Cirdan to see the ring bearers safely west. We are honored to have you come aboard." With that simple statement, sailors from Alqualondë were welcomed aboard.

"Well met Galdor. I am of the house of Olwë." Bilbo and Frodo did not understand the language that the sailors reverted to. It sounded very different than the Sindarin they were used to. Both watched as swan flags were added to the mast of their ship. The passengers who were heading to Tol Eressëa were transferred methodically to other ships. Then their new Teleri crew charted a course that bypassed the busy port of Tol Eressëa, which would soon be welcoming many immigrants. The bay of Eldamar was huge and slowly the spires of Avallónë drew even on their starboard side.

"He is not simply a Captain." Frodo observed the silver haired elf direct his sailors. Erestor raised his brow but did not otherwise confirm the supposition.

"What makes you say that?"

"Two of his crew act more like guards and never leave his side."

"He did say he was of the house of Olwë." Erestor recalled.

"But how close to King Olwë, I wonder?" Frodo said as the elf looked in their direction, as if he was aware of their scrutiny. He greeted them as he passed quickly, moving towards the ellith.

"My Lady." Faelthel was kneeling in front of the Lady of Light and holding her hands.

"A vision? Do they last so long?" Gwidian asked. But when Faelthel shook her head, she turned to seek out a small glass of Miruvor. Galadriel, unbeknown to others, was caught in memories from a far distance past.

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

"_Elbereth, please spare him." Blood spurted over her hands and onto her dress as she fumbled with the torn fabric to fashion a makeshift bandage. Her kin fought each other. How could she choose sides? How could she not? These innocents were her Mother's people. She moved to help the guard, who was lying at the gate in a pool of blood. _

"_He will die as will you." The sword was poised at her neck. _

"_What Noldor would slay the daughter of Finarfin, granddaughter of Finwe unarmed as I am?" She challenged still bending over the injured Teler. The enraged Noldo kicked her out of the way then dealt a killing blow to the Teleri she was tending. She had never screamed like that before._

_"It is your fault tending to one of those who withhold the ships." But the Noldo retreated at the advance of the palace guards._

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"I did not act in time to prevent it." Galadriel whispered aloud.

"You did all you could both then and now." Someone was wiping the tears from her cheeks. Familiar blue eyes held compassion and love. Word from the east has reached even us of your part in these great deeds."

"I should have done more."

"You did what you could Artanis." He held her face between his hands guiding her to look at him more deeply. Her hands crept up to cover his.

"Falmatar? Uncle?" Galadriel gasped then truly did weep steadily and silently as she recognized her uncle, the son of Olwë, who had died along with so many others on that fateful day_._

"Yes, I am alive Artanis or shall I say Galadriel?" Falmatar, Crown Prince of Teleri smiled soothingly. He recognized the underlying strain of horror and the black breath and clearly saw the bone chilling weariness of his niece's soul. He was also surprised to detect strength that flowed from the depths of a soul bond with a loving spouse. His niece was truly blessed if such a bond remained over the long distance that separated her from her husband. "Come sit at the front of the ship with me as we sail into the Haven of the Swan. Let us replace the memory of that horror with the exquisite view of our shining city." He gently guided her to her feet and enfolded her in a loving embrace.


	11. Chapter 11 Welcomed in Alqualondë

Elrond yawned and stretched his limbs, carefully testing and assessing his strength. While he was loathed to admit it, his heart was failing. If the art of healing was not more advanced in Aman, he would succumb to an old injury from the Last Alliance that had been aggravated by the toils of these last years.

"Allow me to help you, My Lord." Cirulian's voice was unusually gentle as he approached. His guard knew the truth, although he would keep his Lord's secret. Disoriented by the morning nap, Elrond was grateful for the aid as he rose from the low cot and crossed over to the table.

"What have I missed?" Elrond tried to sound enthused but felt truly numb. Mithrandir had taught him how to raise a shield around his mind to protect from the overwhelming songs of the Maiar. He was so weary. He felt like lying back down and sleeping forever.

"We will not be docking at Tol Eressëa." Cirulian enjoyed being succinct. Elrond raised his brow and waited for his guard to divulge more. "We have been boarded. Our ship is now under the command of Prince Falmatar son of Olwë. We will be arriving at the Swan Haven in a short time." A knock sounded as Silsilalda opened the door. She carried a healing draught.

"I heard you were waking." The healer came up beside them and handed Elrond the draught. "Gwidian and Erestor are preparing your dress robes. They will be in shortly." Silsilalda waited for Elrond to comment or protest, but the Peredhel simply sipped slowly at the broth.

"_Dear Eru, please let __Celebrían_ _be whole, well and happy." _He prayed even as the image of his beloved smiling floated before his eyes. _"I would give everything up for her to be healed and happy." _At the edge of his thoughts the black breathe lingered. _"She would be happier without you."_ He brushed the ill thought away with the knowledge that he loved her deeply. How could one not but love her? She had loved him too. If that were no longer the case, then, then her happiness would come first.

"_But these years have taken their toll. Neither of us are the same. Too broken. How could she still love me?" _Doubt crept into his soul, spurred on by the darkness of the black breath. His head faltered at the images of his beloved Celebrían hurt. _"You could not heal her."_

"Elrond, Elrond." Someone was calling him insistently. "Mellon-nin, please come back to us." He was looking into the dark, worried eyes of Erestor. He gave a weary smile and Erestor smiled back gently. "We are almost there. Just an hour to go." Erestor waited for Elrond to acknowledge his words. Belatedly, Elrond noticed that Silsilalda and Cirulian had left. "May I help you get ready?"

"Yes, thank you." Elrond managed to respond. Erestor nodded to someone close by.

"You will want to see the beautiful harbor!" Gwidian slowly started to braid Elrond's hair intermittently slipping in the intricate dark beads. "Such ships! The carvings of the swan heads are exquisite." Gwidian stifled a sigh of frustration at yet another dropped bead. Erestor squeezed his wife's hand comfortingly before he bent to retrieve the beads. It had been a long and trying journey for all of them and no one knew what to expect. Easy conversation masked the fear and worry of Elrond's friends. Once she had finished, Erestor helped Elrond with his tunic and then brought Elrond's soft leather shoes. He helped Elrond to rise then draped a fine warm robe, which was made in the traditional silver and blues of Imladris, around his shoulders.

"Is it that cold?" Elrond asked.

"It is brisk."

_Xxxxxxxx On deck xxxxxxxxxX_

Falmatar summoned the healer. He hoped to receive an honest report on the health of the ring bearers before Galadriel returned. They were to be met by an illustrious contingent upon their arrival at the swan harbor. Many had gone to change into more presentable attire.

"Prince Falmatar, I am Silsilalda, a healer from Imladris." The elleth politely curtsied.

"A leader of the famed school of healing there, as I hear it." Falmater praised. "We received your letters as well as Lord Elrond's description of the Perian's illnesses. I am no healer but have already seen Lady Galadriel and the Perian and know they require care." The Prince guided the healer to the corner. His guards were poised to turn any away who approached.

"It has not been an easy journey." Silsilalda sighed.

"Our healers sent for Master Tarwatirno of Tirion as well as Idhrendes from Lorien. They are each specialists in the areas requested and await our arrival. Are there any changes to your instructions for our four patients?"

"Why are you privy to this information?" Silsilalda dissembled. "It is privileged between healer and patient. My patients are all very private people."

"You sent the messages to Master Tarwatirno because you knew and trusted him. He saw fit to inform Aran Arafinwë of his daughter's condition. It was only right to make haste considering the others' health. I am told that arrangements have been made for surgery. When word came from the Valar requesting that you sail here instead to Tol Eressëa, Arafinwë and Queen Earwen traveled here with due haste."

"The strength required for the ring bearers to fight this enemy for more than an age has taken its toll both emotionally and physically." Silsilalda paused deciding it was better to discuss this with the healers directly. At the Prince's frown, she added cryptically. "It would be wise to avoid unnecessary surprises, especially for those who's hearts have been pushed to the limits. Good day my Prince." She curtsied and left an astonished Falmatar staring after her.

"Protocols are different in the east. She has dealt with other Kings and rulers." The words were soft, but still conveyed the power of the speaker.

"Galadriel," Falmatar smiled wryly, thinking about the elf who had the audacity to gift Artanis Nerwen a new name. His niece had changed into more formal clothing more appropriate for the meetings and reunions that were about to take place. "I look forward to meeting your Celeborn. I am sure he will come as we now hold those dear to his heart."

"From your lips to Elbereth's ears." Galadriel returned even as she took solace in the remains of their deep marital bond. The straight path had not cleaved it. Surely, that was a testament to the good will of the Valar.

Gwidian led the hobbits to the seats next to Galadriel and Falmatar. Frodo and Bilbo were warmly attired for the autumn winds were cold. The normally outspoken Avari was stunned silent by the knowledge that King Olwë's son had personally come to accompany their ship into the Harbor.

"My eyes are not what they used to be Frodo." Bilbo was chatting amiably. "How long before I can see the buildings in the distance?"

"I think it will be just a half hour more, Lord Bilbo Baggins of the Perian." Falmatar held his hand over his heart. "It is an honor to meet the brave warriors who helped cleanse Middle Earth of the darkness of Sauron. I am Falmatar, son of Olwë."

"Master Bilbo Baggin's at your service." The hobbit nodded but did not bow. Frodo greeted the Prince next. But they were interrupted by the approach of Mithrandir.

"Gandalf, come and see." Frodo called excitedly.

"I sailed from this port many years ago." Mithrandir turned. "It is good to see you Falmatar. No more trouble with your new hroar?"

"It is not exactly new." Falmatar said wryly. "I was reborn years before you sailed."

"Time is all relative." Mithrandir moved to sit beside the hobbits and whispered conspiratorially. "These old eyes can not yet see the harbor either."

"Many are awaiting our arrival." Falmatar assured them. "You will be presented to my Adar King as well as to King Arafinwë, who perhaps is known to you in Sindarin as Finarfin."

"You do not speak Sindarin?" Bilbo had mastered the language and had a good working knowledge of Quenyan, but his nephew was only comfortable in Sindarin.

"Be at ease." Falmatar soothed. "You may not understand the lyrics to the songs of welcome, for Telerin is more closely related to Quenyan than to Sindarin. The Teleri are a sea-going people and are fluent in many languages. Many from the house of Arafinwë will be there as well. They can speak Sindarin and often travel to Tol Earessa."

"Celebrían, have you seen her? Is she well?" Galadriel's voice was steady and held no sign of the turmoil she was feeling.

"I have seen much of your daughter." He grasped Galadriel's hands soothingly. "Celebrían is well. I do not know how she was on the shores of middle earth. She is much quieter in nature than you. She prefers the quiet coves of our home in Alqualondë over Tirion, although your parents visit often to spend time with her. She also spends much time with her uncle Galathil and his family." Two gasps were audible. They turned to see Elrond standing with Cirulian. The Peredhel was dressed in the blues and silvers of Imladris.

"Lord Elrond Eärendilion, it is a pleasure and honor to finally meet you." Falmatar and Galadriel rose and walked toward the too pale figure. The Lord of Imladris was easily recognizable from his wife's descriptions, although even Falmatar could see that he too was in need of healing. At Elrond's speechlessness, Galadriel left all protocol behind and turned to embrace her son in law, whose eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

"She is well." Galadriel repeated. Those words were all it took to unleash tears from both of them. Falmatar extended a hand but instead of shaking Elrond's hand, he pulled the Peredhel into an embrace and whispered.

"She will be waiting for you at the quay, and will be standing next to her uncle."

"Thank you," was all Elrond could manage. Falmatar stepped back and continued the introductions in more audible tones as he led Elrond and Galadriel to their seats. Then as they entered the harbor, Falmatar told them stories of its construction and pointed out the sites, naming each spire and tower in turn. The towers of Alqualondë were impressive topped in mother of pearl, which reflected rainbows in the setting sun. It was a gigantic natural harbor. Swanships with golden beaks and eyes of black and gold filled the harbor, and many held elves that waved curiously to their vessel. Falmatar at times called out in greeting.

As they drew closer it became clear that the glinting colors of the square was due to the predominantly gold and silver hair of elves, who were packed together watching eagerly awaiting their approach. Falmatar carefully gaged the elves who stood by Elrond. One of the Teleri, Cirulian, was obviously guarding the Peredhel while Erestor's goal seemed to keep Elrond talking. The minstrel, Lindir, was singing a joyful work that the others clearly favored. The ship glided towards the rounded white towers of the shell palace.

"Why does the sand glitter so?" Frodo asked.

"I think that you and your uncle might enjoy looking at the jewels and shells that decorate our beaches." Falmatar smiled. "But first you all must formally greet King Olwë and be given leave to enter our lands. It is only right that you also greet King Arafinwë and others who have traveled here to welcome you." Other questions from the curious hobbits were forestalled by the preparations for docking. Falmatar turned to shout directions to his crew.

"One checks the mast head-flys to note the direction of the wind while another tells of the current." Elrond paused. "I am not sure of the last comment."

"The dialect is very old." Galadriel paused. "Even your time with Cirdan might not have taught you that one." They watched as the Teleri lowered the sails, then split up to stand on each side of the boat to tend the spring lines. Bilbo asked Lindir about the beautiful singing.

"They are ancient Teleri melodies. We will have to seek a translation another time." Lindir smiled.

"He is readying the anchor." Frodo observed. All were astonished at how quickly the boat was guided into the slip. Once the lines were secured and the anchor lowered, Teleri from the shore maneuvered a plank securely over the side of their boat for them to disembark.

"Welcome to Alqualondë!" Many cheered as Prince Falmatar signaled his niece and Elrond forward. Cirulian and Falmatar's guards followed close behind.

"May I present to you Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien." A great cheer rose up. "Also known as Artanis, daughter of Aran Arafinwë and granddaughter of Aran Olwë. Here is also Lord Elrond Eärendilion, leader of Imladris, healer, and lore master." He escorted Galadriel on his left and Elrond on his right as they walked up the dock to where the Kings were standing. They had not gotten far before silver hair flashed before them.

Xxxxxxxx

"They are here!" Someone cried out.

"Patience Celebrían." Her Uncle chastised and momentarily held her back, before laughing once Falmatar finished his introduction. "Go to him." Celebrían was out of his grasp in an instant. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall blond Lord, seemingly restrain himself, as if his first impulse was to run towards them. But at that moment, the silver eyes of her beloved lit with recognition and amazement.

"Elrond!" She cried. Then he was in her arms. His fingers ghosted her back as if he was afraid to hurt her, making her tightened her grip.

"Bree, Bree," His voice wavered. She felt his tears mingle with her own. This reunion was not enough. She longed to feel the connection between their minds and souls, but the barrier did not yield.

"Give them a moment." She heard her Naneth tell Falmatar. "Let us greet the Kings first."

"_Melleth-nin, why do you hide? Please open your mind to me." _She called soundlessly.

"I dare not." He whispered. His lips anointed her forehead with a kiss. That he replied aloud was an ill sign. She pulled his head down and kissed him passionately. If some nearby gasped at her audacity, for the Teleri were more conservative in public, she paid them no heed.

"Galadriel, my granddaughter, daughter of my dearest Eärwen." Olwë stretched his hand to raise Galadriel from her deep curtsy. "When you left, I had not yet heard of your brave deeds during Alqualondë's darkest hours. You intervened on behalf of our people at great anguish and risk. May all doors of Alqualondë be ever opened to you and to your husband Celeborn, when he joins you in these lands." At this the Teleri gave another great cheer.

"What is he saying?" Frodo asked. Elrond turned to the hobbits, who were escorted by Mithrandir.

"He is speaking Telerin and welcomes his granddaughter home." Mithrandir translated. Elrond nodded in agreement and stepped towards them with Celebrían at his side. Their hands were entwined.

"This is my beloved wife, Celebrían. Celebrían, these are the intrepid hobbits who achieved the impossible. May I present Master Bilbo Baggins and Master Frodo Baggins." The hobbits greeted Celebrían quickly because Prince Falmatar signaled them forward. Celebrían curtsied while Elrond bowed before Olwë and his Queen Cévëalë. Arafinwë, Eärwen and Galadriel stood just to Olwë's right.

"Welcome Lord Elrond Peredhel, son of Lord Eärendil and Lady Elwing, descendent of our brother Elwë. You have shown great wisdom and achieved renown through your own deeds. We welcome you to Alqualondë. May our doors be ever open to you as they are to our beloved great granddaughter Celebrían." The crowd cheered as Elrond spoke the traditional words of greeting in Telerin. Then Olwë stepped forward and clasped the Peredhel's hand guiding him to Arafinwë, who had momentarily released his hold on his daughter. Elrond did not recognize many of the golden haired elves that stood around Galadriel. Elrond was about to bow, but Arafinwë gripped his arm and drew him closer.

"It has been too long since we last met, Elrond son of Eärendil." Arafinwë tilted Elrond's chin upward, and his powerful blue eyes assessed the Peredhel. "You have left things very late." He looked beyond Elrond to where Cirulian and Silsilalda hovered protectively.

"Duties detained me, Aran Arafinwë. I could not in good conscience depart sooner." Elrond replied. It was easy to see where Galadriel had inherited her power, although his daughter had fine-tuned her abilities under the guidance of Melian and through years of struggle and turmoil over seas.

"You must place your own needs first for a change." Arafinwë said thoughtfully before easing the tension with a brilliant smile and turning to his right. "It is time to meet my wife, Eärwen."

"Elrond, it is good to meet you. I have heard so much about you." Queen Eärwen offered her hand. As he kissed it, she smiled and whispered. "I am glad that you make my Granddaughter so happy. You have Grandparents vying to see you. Perhaps they can escort you to the carriage." A tall muscular man and a beautiful elleth stepped ahead of Galadriel to greet Elrond.

"This is Idril, your grandmother." Queen Eärwen smiled as Idril Celebrindal embraced her grandson for the first time. To say Elrond was stunned was truly an understatement. Eärwen could not see much resemblance between the brilliant blond-haired elleth and her ebony-haired grandson, except perhaps something about the eyes. She could not see much of golden Tuor in him either. It took only minutes before concern flashed in his grandparents' eyes. They sensed what Arafinwë had and were duly concerned about their grandson's health.

"Why are there so many Maiar here?" Elrond mumbled as he rubbed at his chest. Celebrían steadied him from one side as Tuor offered his support from the other.

"There are Maiar here?" Aran Olwë turned the hobbits and Mithrandir in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, there are many here. Uinen and Ossë are hidden offshore. I recognize the songs of a few of the others – Eonwe and Melian. But there are many voices." Elrond trailed off. Idril motioned to the footman.

"They are curious to see you, son of Elwing." Mithrandir smiled, but Olwë did not. Tuor disregarded their discussion and focused on directing his grandson to the carriage. The surrounding crowd cheered and sang.

"We have an agreement that they should be visible to us when they come into our city." Olwë scrutinized Mithrandir, as he wondered how much of the past age the Maia was aware of? "It has been long since the Istari sailed forth."

"I do not think they mean any harm." Mithrandir soothed. Olwë and Arafinwë exchanged an inscrutable look. Then Arafinwë signaled to Master Tarwatirno, who climbed aboard the carriage with Elrond and Celebrían. Silsilalda followed the other healers to a waiting carriage.

"_Elrond, let me be your strength. Please open your mind to me. I fear for you." _Celebrían pulled his head down to her shoulder. Now that they were in the closed carriage, he did not resist but closed his eyes as the world spun. For the first time in five hundred years, Elrond sought to open his thoughts mind to mind to his beloved.

"We will not have you give up after having come so far, my grandson." Idril sensed what was passing between her grandson and his wife.

"The healers here will help, but it will take time." Tuor said as he moved over to make room for Master Tarwatirno. The Master healer sat opposite to Elrond and began to assess his patient as the carriage moved forward. It would take some time, perhaps twenty minutes or more to arrive at the palace due to the crowds.

Xxxxxxxx

"Are you planning on joining us?" Olwë asked wryly before getting into the carriage. Cévëalë had recommended that the hobbits accompany them on the short ride to the palace. This simple act would raise the unusual visitors in their people's esteem. Mithrandir was startled from his revere by Olwë's words.

"I was warning my kin to grant us some space." Mithrandir spoke slowly as if he was also still engaged in another conversation. "I think the Valar will summon me shortly." He noted as he climbed into the carriage.

"Soon is an understatement. They notified me that they would use the tower to meet with the ring bearers."

"I will see if they will speak with me first." Mithrandir turned his gaze at the hobbits. Bilbo had closed his eyes in exhaustion and Frodo was staring out the window, nearly overwhelmed by the myriad of elves that were straining to see them. _"Is it different that these are elves instead of the men of Gondor?" _Mithrandir wondered. _"Or is it perhaps the scope and beauty of this city, which has known peace for two ages?" _With Bilbo sleeping, Olwë and Cévëalë described the sites to Frodo as the carriage crossed the short distance to the palace. Indeed, the coaches arrived together at the palace, where attendants were waiting to help them dismount.

"My King, Eonwe brings word that the Valar will meet the ring bearers in your tower." Olwë's Seneschal informed them. The King of Alqualondë surveyed the travelers.

"No, our travelers are weary, injured and ill." Celebrian spoke up. "They need to see the healers, not to be embroiled in stressful talks." Elrond leaned on his wife. She could feel he was at the end of his strength.

"The Valar requested their presence." Cévëalë repeated, although her voice was wary. The climb to the top of the tower might not be possible for some of those present.

"Are the Valar going to heal them?" Celebrian held Elrond's arm and Tuor and Idril were standing close by. Cirulian had just exited the final carriage and was staring in amazement at Elrond's grandfather. Celebrian realized belatedly that the warrior had likely met Tuor before the couple had sailed from Sirion.

"The Valar have vowed to not intervene directly in our affairs since the drowning of Numenor." Olwë reported.

"It is why the Istari sent to middle earth were shorn of much of their powers." Mithrandir enlightened them. "May I suggest Aran Olwë that the two of us go?"

"I will accompany you." Galadriel said wearily. Elrond was looking up at the tall tower as if gaging the climb.

"Come, we will take refreshments and rest first." Olwë decided. "I will send word of our status and intentions. The Valar have surely smiled upon you and blessed you with safe passage. They will know that you require rest."


	12. Chapter 12 Assessments

Silver eyes swept the crowd. They did not stop or linger on him but lit with awe and wonder when they fell on Celebrían. He watched their emotional reunion, while he drank in the sight of his son. The silken dark hair was from Elwing, though it seemed more unruly. Thin strands had worked free and floated around him like a shimmering smoke, giving him an otherworldly appearance. He seemed to hold to Celebrían like a lifeline. Eärendil realized with a pang that his son was far too pale. The light of his spirit shone through his pallid features. It was an unusual light – unmistakably of the Peredhil and yet somehow unique.

"_He will not want to meet you." _Doubt crept into him mind. Arafinwë had brought a single letter from Elrond to them at the end of the first age. It was short and awkward, written in a slightly trembling hand. It was not the confident script that they saw later in his books. No other letters came. _"But you did not send any more either." _His conscience rebuked. Over the years, friends gifted them many of their son's books. A precious few were originals, written in the precise and flowing hand of this son, who they did not know. He watched as Elrond turned back towards the ship to greet two small children. Nay, not children! One was white and aged. They were the hobbits that had found and then destroyed Sauron's ring. Eärendil could not help but gape as Elrond introduced them to Celebrían. The white wizard looked directly at him and smiled slyly.

"_Why do you not greet us?" _Olórin's voice rang in his head. But at that moment Prince Falmatar drew Elrond and Celebrían forward.

"Welcome Lord Elrond Peredhel, son of Lord Eärendil and Lady Elwing, descendent of our brother Elwë." Olwë announced.

"_My son," _Eärendil added mentally, although truth be told, he had not had time for the little boys when he was in Sirion. His soul had been stirred by the quest for a passage west, even as his own parents had undertaken the same journey only a few years before. Somehow, he knew that this was his sojourn – his destiny to go before the Valar to make them aware of how dire things had become. That driving quest had haunted him every day he was not at sea, every day of the precious few he had spent with his young sons. How had they ended their one letter to their sons? "_We pray that you will live happy lives. Perhaps someday you may find it in your hearts to forgive us." _In his mind, he saw the five year olds playing on the beach. Elros, always the more mischievous one, was nonchalantly carrying a bucket of seawater. Elrond cried, affronted as the water pour down on his head instead of in the moat that was prepared. The child in his memory merged into the figure before him. Yet, this figure greeting Arafinwë and Eärwen was a regal Lord, Healer and Lore Master. What claim did Eärendil have?

Someone jostled him as the crowd pushed forward towards the carriages. Where had he been? Had he been lost in thought as the world again spun by? He touched his brow expecting to feel the warmth of the Silmaril, but he and the Valar agreed it was best to set the flaming jewel far away in the endless sky. Its proximity had changed them. They were sick for much of the last year – sick with longing, nausea, and chills. He still felt lightheaded at times. This earth beneath his feet seemed too solid. The air was too thick. His mind brought up the comforting ether in which his ship once sailed, in which he had fought the evils of Melkor. Afterwards, his duties had shifted. _"Watch, observe and report." _Those had been his orders. The things he had seen! Kings crowned. Forests burned. Lands flooded. People diligently built towns and tamed the land. Cities rose from the desert and fell as orcs and darkness flooded the land. Great battles raged. A granddaughter married a descendent of Elros and ushered in a new age.

"What did he say?" Elwing trembled as she touched him. He blinked dazedly. She stood alone on the sparsely populated pier. Everyone had left. How long had he been here?

"I did not speak with him." Eärendil pulled her close.

"Oh, Eärendil," she rested her head against his. They were dressed in the simple garb of the Teleri. He was bright and golden like most mariners of this Haven. Only her dark hair gave them away. "Perhaps it is for the best." Change was hard to deal with. Eärendil had been a servant of the Valar for three ages while Elwing had governed their settlement at Gwaelindë.

"Come tell me about him." She coaxed him back towards the beach house where they were staying. Olwë had been surprised by their request to arrive unofficially. He tried to persuade them. But in the end, he agreed to let the Peredhil stay anonymously in the shell cottage, a favorite hideaway of the royal family.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"Aran Arafinwë, Adar of my Lady Galadriel," The persistent elleth's voice gave more reverence to the later part of her greeting as she curtsied before him. He was about to enter the carriage, but paused as he realized this must be one of Galadriel's Handmaidens.

"I have sworn to my Lord Celeborn to speak with you privately upon our arrival." Green, self-confident, and ancient eyes met his squarely. Nay, this was no handmaiden, but one of the noble Ladies of Lothlórien. She held out a leather satchel. "These are his letters. We should meet soon. Keep surprises to a minimum and allow my Lady a private retreat. I know we all have her best interests in mind." He blinked at the implied orders.

"You will join her, Lady?" He paused and waited for an introduction. The power and knowledge in her eyes marked her as an elf of the first age.

"Faelthel," she paused as if holding back something. "Sacrifices were necessary to keep many safe."

"You are the only one from Lothlórien?" He realized even as he knew it was unwise to ask for more details in public.

"She sent the others to Tol Eressëa." Faelthel curtsied. "Your carriage awaits my Lord." Arafinwë watched her move towards the healer's carriage. He hid the leather satchel under his formal robes and turned toward his wife, who was beckoning to him.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"Give us some privacy." Celebrían's voice was soft, but the order was implicit. She had precious few moments alone with her husband. The healer's suggested surgery. Yet, the survival rate was slim. Elrond, bone weary after the emotional arrival at the haven, dozed at times under the healer's assessment, while at other times he spoke to Mistress Idhrendes from Loren and Silsilalda about Frodo's hurts and injuries.

"We will check back in an hour." Master Tarwatirno advised. "Summon us immediately should he be in distress." Celebrían watched them file out under Cirulian's watchful eyes. The warrior had guarded her husband for as long as she could recall.

"Meleth-nin," Celebrían whispered as her hand crept under the blanket to his naked chest. "_How could the loving heart that beat inside be so damaged? How am I to know which path to take when all seem to risk your life?" _ He breathed in deeply at her touch – both her physical and mental touch. Weary silver eyes blinked open. They widened in amazement and reverence when he recognized her.

"Is it you?" He breathed out softly as if he believed her a figment of his imagination.

"I am here, Meleth-nin." She kissed him and ran her fingers through his hair. They warned that the healing draught could be disorienting.

"Eru has blessed me. Finding you well and recovered was all I ever prayed for." Elrond whispered as she leaned over to caress him. She felt his thoughts turn towards the future. Usually, they would reveal some of his hopes and dreams, but his thoughts turned towards a blinding light and the whisper of the wind.

"_You belong to us." _The wind rattled the glass door to the balcony. Her own heart quaked as she realized that he felt his end was near. For fleeting moment, she felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement entwined with a breathtaking freedom of flying with the wind. It was quickly quashed as Elrond fought for control. Perspiration beaded on his brow as he order the wind away.

"Beloved?" She questioned as the vision of him lost in the wind surfaced.

"Although much was saved and protected with Celembrior's rings, in using Vilya, its power delved too far into my spirit." Elrond admitted. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "So little time left to spend with you. But it is much more than I dared to hope for."

"No, beloved. Do not think that way." She kissed him. "There will be much more to come." Earlier in the day, he had tried to share some of his memories of their children. But he had only the strength to share images of Arwen's wedding. It was a bittersweet. Both Idril and Tuor had been deeply concerned by her tears earlier that afternoon.

"I have been blessed with over six thousand years." He whispered in a voice that shook with emotion. "With such an amazing, intelligent and beautiful wife and wonderful children. They are well, Meleth-nin. They send their love and letters. Cirulian and Erestor will bring the letters and paintings. Celeborn had Rúmil sketch many scenes from the wedding. I never guessed he had a talent for drawing. Elrohir sent sketches as well. I saw scenes from Arwen's possible future and twice glimpsed our Grandson, Eldarion. Please, let me share them with you."

"Only if you draw more strength through me, though our bond." Celebrían waited for him to promise. Then azure eyes met silver, melding and blending into one as they recalled the smiling curly haired boy who played hide and seek in the lush gardens of Imladris.

"_A gift from Eru." Arwen smiled as she sat clearly content in her husband's arms. __Celebrían__ did not hear most of the conversation, so enamored was she by the image of her daughter and son-in-law. She could sense the strength of their bond and the depth of their love. There was no denying that this union was Valar blessed. She nearly cried out when Arwen leaned forward and engulfed her in a hug. These were Elrond's memories. "Give our love to Naneth." She looked through Elrond's feelings as he saw shining faces of her daughter and son-in-law. There was a deep pride as he realized the amazing potential of the regal couple. They would leave their mark on the world. From the perspective of elves it was like a shooting star – fleeting but breathtaking. From the perspective of men, it would be long remembered, ageless as the white stones of Minith Tirith or as the impressive gateways of Cirdan's Gray Havens. They would accomplish much, bringing peace and prosperity. His pride and awe was tinged with the knowledge that they had lost her – left Arwen and Estel to a separate life in the world of men. These images and the history that their sons would someday bring, Eru permitting, were what they must now be content with. _ Pain brought her back to herself. But it was not pain of her body but that of the heart of her beloved.

"Cirulian!" She was dizzy as she sat up too quickly.

"Dear heart, the healers are here." Tuor helped steady and guide her to a chair next to the bed. She turned to see the healer from Lorien with one hand on Elrond's brow and the other on his chest. She was singing softly but rhythmically. Celebrían frantically scanned the room for Tarwatirno, the healer who had often assisted her during her own healing process.

"Master Tarwatirno is tending to the hobbits. He said that Lady Idhrendes is more knowledgeable on heart ailments." Tuor explained. They both knew that this type of injury was one that no elven healer had successfully fixed by surgery. A wild notion took Celebrían.

"Did my grandfather already seek out the Valar?"

"As far as I know Olwë was planning on attending them tonight."

"Then I have little time to prepare." She stood quickly then turned to Tuor and his wife. "Will you stay? He should not be left alone."

"We will be honored to stay with him." Idril's smile was like the sun.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"_Come rest."_ Eärwen called to her daughter's mind. _"Your Grandfather will delay the meeting with the Valar. There is time."_ Her daughter turned those powerful azure eyes towards her. She was surprised to see the weariness they carried and made the decision with a mother's heart.

"Excuse us for a time." Eärwen called to her Adar and husband, who were speaking with Mithrandir, Olórin's strange incarnation. She did not wait for a response just clasped her daughter's arm and drew her from the room.

"Do you wish for us to introduce you as Galadriel when we return to Tirion? Many have chosen to use new epesses upon their return from middle earth or Mandos." Her daughter's eyes gave away little, but she could sense a numbing weariness.

"Will we return to Tirion?" The beloved voice sounded otherworldly.

"Not soon." She paused with sudden foresight. "At least not all of us. Your Adar must return within a fortnight. An epesse bestowed by a beloved husband will be quickly accepted. "

"And you?" Galadriel left the other question unanswered.

"It has been many ages since I had a daughter to care for. I treasured the painting of you and Celeborn that your Adar brought back after the war." Indeed, she had cried at seeing the young couple as well as at seeing the wonderful portraits of her sons from Nargothrond.

"Maengwen is an amazing artist."

"She captured the love between the two of you. Seeing that made me love him too even though we have not yet met."

"You will love him." Galadriel said with certainty. The guards bowed as they passed into the family wing.

"Guards?" She detected an undercurrent of surprise. Once the guards were out of sight, she spoke.

"Things have changed in the time you were away. We have changed too. Just like you Galadriel, my strong and wise daughter. We have all tasted both joy and much sorrow." They paused at the door to the suite, which was ever reserved for Eärwen and her family. "Rulers are obligated to ever be pillars of strength. Yet, here among your beloved family, you can let your guard down. We know your strength and would support you in your need." She opened the door and motioned for Galadriel to enter first. If any were watching, they would have seen the ethereal Lady of Light disappear from the corridor into the chamber. None would have guessed that a moment later utter shock would paint her lovely features.

"It is good to see you, sister mine." Finrod greeted her softly. The next moment, she was in his arms. Her golden head was buried under his chin as memories assaulted her. She had sensed his pain over the last weeks of his life as well as his suffering and death in Tol-in-Gaurhoth. He was now a perfect image of strength and beauty. How could she resolve the two in her mind?

"I am here. All is well." He grimaced, as he perceived her thoughts. His words spurred silent tears as she relived the loss of her beloved brother. Her world dissolved into sorrow and white heat. He caught her as she went limp in his arms.

"_Galadriel!" Celeborn's whisper of worry came from a far distance." _

"Galadriel!" Finrod called in unison. His worry was nearly as great as swung her gently up and carried her to the settee. Eärwen caressed her daughter's head as Findaráto; he would always be her Findaráto, took Artanis' hand and began to sing a healing song of renewal learned among the trees of Lorien. The power of his song was much greater than most elves, calming even Eärwen's spirit. As she studied her two children, she was struck by their majesty and intensity. Sudden insight came to her that their experience and wisdom would be needed in the tumultuous times ahead. This new age would see Aman swell with new arrivals. Elves came as immigrants, refugees, and reborn as well as those re-embodied.

"Amme?" Finrod squeezed her hand.

"What do you sense?" Eärwen needed his insight. She saw him hesitate. That was telling.

"She is in healing sleep. We should speak with Adar and Tarwatirno. I fear it will take time and care in Lorien."

"Time we have." Eärwen smiled and its effect on her son was immediate. "Time and each other."


	13. Chapter 13 Ask and you shall receive

_Xxxxxxx Shell Cottage xxxxxxX_

"You are needed. Put aside any imagined slights. I coaxed them both to write you a letter. Elrond was so young then, having just survived the war and was dealing the consequences of their choice. He was unsure and heart sore. How could he remember you? The last time he saw his father; he was but five years old. He was but ten, when he last felt his Mother's mind brush his. No elf has complete recollection of those early childhood years. You should hope that he no longer bears clear recollections of that time. You should be thankful. The fall of Sirion and the early time of captivity were horrors enough."

"You said that Maglor loved and cared for the boys." Elwing's face went white.

"Eventually he did. But the other elves of Himring held great prejudices against those not of pure Noldor descent. Peredhil did not rank high in their esteem." Arafinwë was fast losing his patience. "You lost your chance to parent the boys three ages ago. With Elbereth's blessing, others stepped into your place to love and protect them. They grew into amazing adults, who you can be very proud of. Now, finally one has been returned to you. Do not squander the opportunity to cherish and help him now." He emphasized the last part before turning. "I must go. Olórin and Olwë are waiting for me." Arafinwë left the shell cottage quickly. Elwing and Eärendil stared at each other at loss for words. Instead, Elwing poured some wine and handed her husband a glass. It was some time before either of them spoke. In their heads, they were thinking on the letter written some six thousand years ago and long since turned to dust.

"Arafinwë encouraged them to write." Eärendil repeated. "I thought they might not remember, but I hoped otherwise."

"It was a tumultuous time in their lives. Their letters were most gracious given that they barely remembered us." Elwing recalled the words in a new light, given Arafinwë's revelations. "How could he need our help now?"

"He waited far too long to sail. At the very least, he suffers from the sea longing and appeared to be fading." Eärendil divulged. "Would he wish to see us? Should we wait for him to send word?"

"Should it not be us who takes the first step?" Elwing's voice wavered. "Especially if he is ill?"

_Xxxxxxxxx Guest Suites in the Palace xxxxxxxX_

Idril gently caressed her grandson's hand. She reflected on all she had heard as she considered these long fingers, which had been strong in war, sure in healing, and wise in governing. He was obviously one used to giving and was less comfortable about receiving. Indeed, she thought with a smile, he was dumbfounded by their love and concern and was clearly more worried about the two small hobbits than about his own condition. He considered these injuries, suffered over so many wars and the culmination of bearing a ring of power for over an age of this world, a small price to pay for keeping his people safe. Her heart swelled with pride at his accomplishments even as she marveled at his humble and generous nature. Celebrían had asked her and Tuor to stay with Elrond while she went to see Olwë and Arafinwë. Healer Idhrendes said Elrond was in a deep restorative healing sleep and given the strength of the draught should not feel any pain. Yet, Idril's heart twisted in concern each time she saw a grimace pass over the handsome features. Yes, she could understand Celebrían's wish that he not be left alone. She thought back with a sigh of regret to the conversation with her husband a few days ago.

"_Our son will come." Tuor had been sure he would be there, although they had not seen their son in nearly a yen. Eärendil spent precious little time among elves. It was rumored that the Valar had released him from his duties on the Vingilot. But why, then were they not here? Why did their son not come? _

"We will see him well." Tuor squeezed her hand then turned to stroke Elrond's dark head. "He has Elwing's hair."

"I think it is the mark of Lúthien's line." Idril observed.

"Where do you think Celebrían has gone off too?" Tuor asked. "She had that look – of one who is singe minded and determined." Idril and her husband exchanged a true smile. Elrond had been blessed with a wonderful wife. They both sent a prayer to Elbereth to watch over their grandson.

_Xxxxxxx Olwë's receiving room xxxxxxX_

"They are expecting the ring bearers." Olórin reminded them.

"They would have chosen a easier place to access, if they were truly expecting those who had fought to destroy Sauron." Arafinwë disagreed. His father-in-law raised an eyebrow, for he had allowed uncharacteristic annoyance creep into his voice. Arafinwë obviously had enough of this discussion. Having glimpse briefly at the letters from Celeborn, he wanted to tend to his daughter. Olwë sparred a glance at his sons, whose impatience was readily seen. A knock on the door disturbed his next thought.

"The Lady Celebrían wishes to speak to you." The page announced.

"Send her in." Olwë was surprised to see his granddaughter had entered while he was speaking and even more surprised to see her richly attired as if for a public audience with the High King.

"I will accompany you to see the Valar – to represent my husband. When are we going?" Olwë was amused to see that the flash of her eyes was like Galadriel or perhaps even Finwë. Arafinwë's expression told him that he had noted this as well. For the first few years after her arrival, Celebrían had been a docile, frightened wraith. It took months before Eärwen was able to coax her from her room at Olwë's royal estate on Tol Eressëa. Later, her uncle Galathil won her trust and love. Between the efforts of the healers, Eärwen, and Galathil, she gradually recovered and found her equilibrium and purpose again. Now, it was clear that she was driven by a new purpose.

"We will go in an hour." Olwë spoke with authority. "Meet us in the atrium." To Olwë's surprise, it was his son-in-law Arafinwë who dashed from the room although his sons were not far behind.

Arafinwë could sense Eärwen's worry. It took all his will power not to run through the corridor. His guards sensed his worry and kept pace with him. A single glance was all it took to convey to them that no one else should enter. With that order, Arafinwë closed the door to his family's suite behind him. The sweet voices of Findaráto and Eärwen swept over him. They were in the final stanza of a traditional song of renewal. He moved past the sitting room and peered into the first bedchamber. His daughter lay immobile with eyes closed on the bed. A golden glow emanated from Findaráto, nay Finrod as he automatically corrected himself. The healing glow encompassed Galadriel. Eärwen sat on the bed next to her daughter, where she gently stroked the golden head. She rose upon seeing her husband and let him take her place. Arafinwë bent to kiss his daughter's cheek then slowly assessed her spirit. After some moments, he rose and motioned them out to the sitting room. For Galadriel was in healing sleep, and it would be sometime before she woke. Finrod gently closed the door behind them.

"Celeborn sent letters that shed some light on the injuries to her spirit." He opened the leather case and shared them with his wife and son.

_Xxxxxx The Shell Game Room xxxxxxxX_

"What kind of game is that?" Frodo asked. He was trying to stay calm while the healer inspected his neck and the back of his shoulders. Mistress Silsi was speaking very quickly in Quenya to the new healer, a tall serious and Noldor.

"May I?" The healer held his hands out. Frodo shivered at the intensity of the healer's dark eyes.

"Who are you?" Frodo's voice shook slightly with apprehension. It was never pleasant to have a healer inspect the wound that Shelob inflicted. Master Tarwatirno immediately sensed his discomfort.

"Master Frodo, it is my honor to serve you." The elder healer smiled gently. "I am Tarwatirno, Arafinwë's master healer. Lord Elrond and Lady Silsilalda have apprised me of your hurts. If there is anything we can do here to help, be at ease that we shall. May I?" The healer held his hands out but made no move towards Frodo. Frodo nodded slightly. Tarwatirno came forward and slowly assessed Frodo's neck, shoulder and spirit. Pain was evident in Frodo's eyes. Bilbo sat near the bay window tensed at his nephew's distress. Silsilalda sought to employ gentle distraction.

"I heard this room was furnished originally for play and relaxation." She smiled as Frodo scanned the shell room. "Children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and many more descendants have supposedly christened this as the place to have fun."

"What is that table covered with a rug and balls?" Bilbo asked.

"You will have to ask the Prince to explain it. I am not familiar with such a game." Silsilalda paused. "There is also a shell cottage on the property that is said to be another favorite spot to relax."

"I would like to go there." Frodo shivered slightly as he felt the healer's touch.

"I heard it is a good walk from here along the beach." Silsilalda looked over at Bilbo. "Once you are feeling better, we might try to go there and stay for a few days." Frodo and Bilbo were both interested in the prospect and spent awhile discussing it while Tarwatirno finished his examination. The healer stepped back to make notes in a folder, which held details of Frodo's health since he was injured at Amon Sûl. Frodo fell silent as the healer wrote. Then he finally drew in a deep breath and inquired.

"Did you detect any of the spider's stinger left?" Tarwatirno looked up at him with a serious expression.

"Be at ease, Master Frodo. There are no foreign bodies left in the wound. Lord Aragorn, Master Elrond and Lady Silsilalda have taken good care of you. But I sensed deep disruptions to your fëa and hurts of the psyche."

"Then there is to be no healing for me?" Frodo lamented.

"You will find healing. Do not fear. Healing of the fëa is slower and best accelerated in the fresh air of Lórien. Elrond's wife, the Lady Celebrian suffered deep hurts like this. I oversaw part of her healing. We may also try to seed the regrowth of your finger. I think this should be possible, though you will be the first hobbit ever treated."

"See my boy!" Bilbo cried happily. "We have come to an amazing place."

"Is Lórien far?" Frodo was not sure he was ready for another journey.

"We will rest here for some weeks before setting out for Lórien." Tarwatirno told them. Lady Galadriel will also require healing that is only to be found in there.

"And Master Elrond?" Bilbo asked astutely. Silsilalda noted the pause before Tarwatirno answered.

"I do not know if he will be well enough to accompany us at that time or if," the healer paused to choose his words carefully. "He may follow later."

_Xxxxxxxx Hall by the Guest Suites xxxxxX_

"How is he?" Erestor approached Cirulian, who was standing guard at the door to their Lord and Lady's suite.

"Silsilalda was pleased that they called a healer from Lórien, who is an expert in ailments of the heart and circulatory system." Erestor was surprised that Cirulian was unusually forthcoming. The guard was never one to offer extra information. "But Healer Idhrendes was greatly concerned by his condition and wanted to consult Lórien. She gave him a potent sleeping draught and left strict orders that he not be disturbed. Celebrían went to see Olwë and Arafinwë. If I were to guess, I think Celebrían will consult Idhrendes' Lord first." Erestor's eyebrows rose to great heights at this information.

"Is Elrond now alone?"

"His grandparents watch over him."

"Do you want to go eat and take some rest? I can guard our Lord." Erestor offered.

"You can keep guard with me." Cirulian folded his arms across his chest. He was obviously not moving from this space.

"Do you think two guards are needed in the Palace of Olwë?" Erestor gaped. Cirulian just raised an eyebrow. "Point taken. I shall keep watch with you until Celebrian returns." They stood there nearly an hour before a tall golden haired elf approached. Neither moved to let him pass, for they did not recognize Eärendil.

"I seek Lord Elrond."

"He is not accepting visitors at this time." Erestor said softly.

"Erestor Canfaronion, your Adar visited us in Gwaelindë when he was first reinbodied. Let us pass to see our son." Erestor turned to the dark haired Peredhel with wide eyes. Elwing had stepped up next to her husband.

"My Adar has been reborn?" Erestor was shocked by the news.

"And reunited with your Naneth. They live outside of Tol Eressëa."

"Did you send word that we were coming here?" Erestor gasped. Elwing blushed slightly. She did not think to inform Canfaron that his son would be coming to Alqualondë, although they had heard weeks ago from the Valar. Elwing was saved from replying by the door opening.

"Keep your voices low." Tuor said then motioned them inside. Erestor, Elwing and Eärendil followed, though Eärendil seemed displeased to have Elrond's advisor included in Tuor's invitation. Cirulian bowed and remained on guard.

"Ion-nin, why were you delayed?" Tuor drew Eärendil into an embrace and spoke quietly. "Your son and daughter-in law are truly amazing people." Eärendil was silent as Idril closed the door to the bedroom and walked to greet him.

"Years with no word. We worried for you, ion-nin. I heard the Valar released you from your duties. I thought you would come to Tirion."

"There were so many changes to deal with first." Elwing intervened for her husband, who squeezed her hand in thanks. "But we are here now." Idril nodded then turned to greet Erestor.

"Your parents should be on their way, Erestor. Celebrian sent word as soon as we arrived here. But their ship from Tol Eressëa was delayed. With all the excitement of today, she forgot to tell you." Erestor nodded, but it was Elwing who spoke.

"Tell us about Elrond. How is he?" She wrung her hands in a mixture of fear and anticipation. Idril spoke softly about the healers' diagnosis.

"They plan to send word to Lórien."

"Can we see him?" Elwing quailed at the information that was left out. Idril and Tuor exchanged a long look as if debating something. Then they broached a topic long neglected.

"Elwing, do you sense when Maiar spirits are near? Did you know there were many Maiar at the docks today?" Tuor opted for a direct approach. Elwing stiffened, affronted by the question. Tuor took her reaction as an affirmative answer. "I ask because you and your son are the only two Peredhil with Maiar heritage in these lands."

"Elrond and Elros were injured by the Maiar battle songs during the War of Wrath." Erestor interjected. Elwing turned to Elrond's councilor in surprise.

"I hear and communicate with them via these songs." She admitted softly.

"Could you do this before you came to Valinor?"

"Shortly before, my heritage was awoken. It was after you sailed. I began to communicate with Uinen and Ossë. I was just simple things like greetings at first." Erestor sensed Elwing's reticence. It was obvious that she did not wish to divulge more about her heritage.

"Elrond senses the songs too but can not comprehend much. I only seek to protect him. The Maiar songs caused him pain on our journey here." Erestor summarized briefly the incident on the ship.

"You should not try to communicate with him in such a manner. Perhaps that is why he did not or could not answer your call at the docks today." Eärendil squeezed his wife's shoulder.

"I will be careful." Elwing promised. "If we could just see him." Idril nodded and took her daughter-in-law's hand.

"He sleeps aided by a healing draught. But surely, you should see him." Together they slipped silently into Elrond's room. Elwing covered her mouth as a small gasp escaped her. Here was the son she had abandoned in Sirion. His features were pale, peaceful, and exquisitely beautiful. His eyes were closed in exhaustion. She leaned over and brushed his cheek with her hand. Eärendil stood close behind her. She felt his promise in her mind and vowed the same.

"_We will be here if he needs us."_

_Xxxxxxx Audience with the Valar xxxxxxxX_

Olwë's tower climbed eight stories up into the night sky of Alqualondë. The staircase wound around the outer edge of the tower framed with a series of archways that showcased breathtaking views of the pearl rooftops of the city or of the beach glinting with gems or of sea accentuated with the billowing white sails of the swan ships that undulated hypnotically in the evening breeze. Celebrían did not register these views, so focused was she on the upcoming meeting. Olwë and Cévëalë, her Great Grandparents led the way, followed her Grandfather Arafinwë. She and Falmatar came last.

"Do you meet regularly with the Valar?" Celebrían whispered.

"Nay, Adar did not honor their summons to Ilmarin after the first kinslaying and eschews most opportunities to speak with them. I know that he meets at times with Ulmo at a secluded isle across from the Shell cottage. But I do not know how often."

She caught sight of impossibly blue robes that glittered like molten sapphires. If she were asked, she would have said that Vilya's brilliant blue was the closest facsimile. He wielded a staff topped with similar stones, though they were many times the size of Celebrimbor's ring. She automatically gave a low curtsy in obeisance. She shivered at the power of the Elder King, which seemed to seep into her hröa and only just registered the presence of two other of the Valar as well as one of the great Eagles. So stunned was she by the might and majesty of the Valar that Olwë's words just washed over her. She studied the majestic eagle. He was much larger than others she had seen. She guessed his wingspan must be more than twice her height. Perhaps it was as much as fifteen to twenty feet. His heavy head was wreathed in white feathers. His golden eyes filled with wisdom. His beak turned, and the golden eyes stared right at her.

"_Your chicks have grown well."_ The eagle's voice filled her head. She tried to hide her shock that the eagle was so adept at mind speak._ "They have saved more than a few of my kin."_

"_Thank you," _she responded to the compliment. _"We tried our best to raise them well." _Her thoughts turned to the tidings she had received of their hunts for orcs. She had prayed daily that they would be well once she had begun to recover in Lórien.

"_They were lost for only a few years to their grief and search for vengeance."_ The great eagle assured her. _"They came back to their senses and were ever a strength for Imladris, for their Adar and for the Dúnedain."_

"_If you see them." _Celebrían wondered at the Eagle's knowledge of her children. _"Would you give tell them that I send my love?" _

"_If I encounter them, it would be my honor to relay your tidings."_ The eagle turned back towards Manwë, who had obviously asked him a question. Celebrían blinked dazedly and turned her attention towards the others in her party. Olwë, Cévëalë, and Arafinwë stood in front of her. She could tell her grandfather and great grandfather were both upset by their expressions.

"You will not help? Or you can not help?" Arafinwë demanded. Manwë's powerful eyes did not give any hint of emotion. Celebrían was startled that a third Vala had appeared, apparently while she had been conversing with the eagle. What had she missed? This Vala was the most alien in appearance with a white beard and mustache and a great silver trident. The way Olwë looked to him for courage, this could only be Ulmo.

"You have a strange way of defining separation between kindred and non-intervention." Olwë shook as he spoke to Manwë. "You sent the Istari east to help in the fight against a Maia who was Morgoth's lieutenant. We had a promise that the Maiar would only enter our city in physical form. Yet that obviously was not the case today. How many times has this promise been disregarded? If we are to live together in harmony and respect, should not the Maiar also show respect to elves by honoring this simple promise?"

"They had your best interests in mind and the interests of the returnees." Manwë stated.

"May I remind you that the Maiar were unaware that their songs were injuring my beloved husband." Celebrían's voice cut soft yet sharp through the conversation. Olwë, Cévëalë, and Arafinwë turned in surprise, for one did not address the Valar without leave. Yet Celebrian continued. "Even Olórin's warning to Uinen and Ossë was not enough to keep the other Maiar from converging on us at the swan Haven. They inflicted more pain and damage." She felt the force of the Eldar King's eyes as if challenging her to continue. He seemed an immovable power and finally turned his gaze to Olórin. But if they were communicating, it was not clear. Thus, Celebrian turned her plea towards his wife.

"Dear Elbereth, ever has Elrond started off each day with a prayer to _Ilúvatar _for strength to serve him and his people. He prays to you for wisdom. He has for ages tried his best to serve and heal all in need. His heart is failing. The songs of his spirit are unwinding. You know that he will not go to your brother's halls should he pass from life. He will be lost to the wind."

"He has sustained deep scissions to the fëa that may be mortal." Varda agreed solemnly.

"Some of those hurts were sustained due from Sauron's ring. Others were inflicted by one of your Istar. Still more are due to him wielding Vilya in defense of our people." Celebrian divulged. Olórin spoke in agreement. "Will you not aid him?"

"Celebrimbor should not have had the craft to forge such power of the rings." Manwe's thoughts rang through her, though he did not seem to move his lips.

"But he did."

"Perhaps it is the will of the all father."

"I can not believe that." Celebrían countered.

"The Maiar simply cast off their hröar when it is damaged and clothe themselves in new ones."

"Elrond has carries only a few drops of that bloodline."

"The risk is great. Such hurts of the hröa are not easily mended."

"There is no hope if you do not try."

_Xxxxxxx Hours later xxxxxX_

"How is he?" Celebrían could not mask the fear in her voice.

"He has been sleeping peacefully." Idril rose to greet her and drew her into a comforting embrace when she saw how much Celebrían was trembling. "What did the Valar say?"

"They will help, though they give no guarantee. They seemed," She paused with sudden uncertainty. "Puzzled by the peredhil." Then she yawned, for an audience with the Valar was nothing short of exhausting.

"I will wait while you change." Idril waved at her husband, who came forward and squeezed Celebrían's hand.

"Sleep well." Tuor kissed her forehead before leaving.

He lay with his eyes closed in exhaustion. The dark silken hair framed a beloved face that was now much thinner and shockingly translucent. She had been drawn to his solidness, his unusual light and loving heart. With a pang, she realized how much the battles of the last few yen had cost him. She curled next to him, focusing her love through their bond. She knew what she would hear – the strained melodies of his spirit no longer flowed in rhythm. Like an ensemble that had always played in unison, his disparate mix of the three kindred struggled to keep together. She placed her hand on his chest and focused on him. Even in sleep, she could feel his joy at her presence. He slept contentedly by her side. She decided that this was enough for now.

"_Dear Eru, Please help Elrond to heal and give our children the strength and wisdom to carry out your will." _She prayed silently before slipping into dreams. At first, she thought it was a dream. But how could her mind conjure such a strange healing hall? She was here, yet was unable to move only watch.

"Wait here. Your spirit is an anchor for his." A voice ordered. A familiar figure was carried to the table.

"Wait! He is not prepared. I have not even told him I loved him nor wished him well."

"This is what you asked for." A being that could only be one of the Vala stated dispassionately. He was tall and ethereal, emitting a golden glow that hurt Celebrian's eyes. His long black hair was pulled back into one tight braid.

Time passed so slowly as she watched them prepare strange instruments. Some of the scalpels and other tools, she recognized due to the times she had assisted Elrond in healing. She stood maybe ten feet from the table on which her husband lay. His hair was pulled back neatly behind him. A white glowing strip covered Elrond's forehead and temples and seemed to be blinking slowly. Tall figures stood at the table, obscuring much of his body from her vision. A bright light beamed down upon them. Estë was speaking to her assistant in words that were undecipherable. She felt only numbness and a sense of soaring with the wind rushing past and realized this must be what Elrond was experiencing under the anesthesia. Strange red tubing connected Elrond's arm with a rounded rectangular box, which murmured like a pump. At some of their words, thin, but powerful shafts of red light burst down onto the site of the surgery. At other times, the light turned golden. She lost track of how long she stood there. During the long wait, she uttered prayers to Eru and to Elbereth to protect and heal her husband. Silently, her prayers turned to songs. Her mind and spirit drew comfort from her silent songs and chants to Elbereth. The feelings she sensed through their bond changed. His mind conjured dark dreams as confusion, anxiety and pain merged with old memories.

"He is in danger!" She wanted to scream but her words floated soundlessly and unheeded in this strange world. A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up. Familiar silken black hair curled around a glowing white but unfamiliar perfect face. The Lady's smile sent waved of comfort through her.

"We must hold to faith that his spirit will be anchored here." Melian joined in Celebrian's song to Elbereth. Together, the two of them chanted. Yet, Celebrian faltered at the pressure she felt through her bond to Elrond. It grew stronger and more painful as the drug-induced fog that was meant to mitigate the pain of the surgery suddenly proved detrimental. For in this confused state, the strong fibers that held his diverse spirit together and bound it to his hröa gave way, shattering in a burst of light and sound that sent splinters of his song rushing by. Celebrian focused on their marital bond, conjuring the deep fierce and loving song of their union. She was surprised at the burning power that Melian added to her song to amplify it.

"_You have more strength than you know, descendant of Finwë and Olwë." _These simple words of encouragement from Melian were all she needed. Celebrian sang as never before, giving voice to special moments from the long years of their life together. Melodies danced and shimmered in the air. Fear bubbled up in her as she realized these were actually part of her husband's fëa. Melian added her voice and suddenly Estë joined them.

"We have completed our work on the heart." Estë waved her hand at the shimmering fog, which surrounded Celebrían. "Will you come? It will not be the easy choice." Estë's questions were not directed at her but at Elrond. Celebrían sensed deep guilt and even more alarmingly she felt his feelings of loss, helplessness and alienation.

"Beloved, I am well. You have not failed me. You could never do that. I need you beside me. Do not leave me." She pleaded as she sent her love to him. She was moved to stretch out her hands, wishing to hug the essence that was her husband's spirit. The colors merged, affording a glowing golden sphere, which Melian stepped forward to surround. Estë motioned, and the glow obeyed and moved back over to the table to descend into Elrond's motionless hröa. Then Estë lifted Elrond's head and held a flask of glowing cream to his lips. Even at this distance, Celebrían felt the command to drink and swallowed air. Elrond grimaced as he swallowed.

"You are hurting him." Celebrían cried. Powerful gold but emotionless eyes fixed on her.

"_Healing is pain. The draught may help bind the disparate parts of his _fëa_. Whether his song can hold them together enough for him to heal? That I do not know."_ Estë was so beautiful even in her blood-speckled smock that it hurt to look upon her. Celebrían nodded as she averted her eyes. She felt the Vala's call and moved to sit in a chair next to Elrond. The table had transformed into a bed. Elrond lay covered with a light sheet from his waist down. She slipped her fingers to cup his limp hand and brought it to her face to kiss his palm. Tears leaked from her eyes onto his far too cold fingers. She watched the slow rise and fall of his heavily bandaged chest. _"His __fëa_ _was injured, slashed and marred by war, evil and terrible tragedies. Such damage of the spirit infests the physical body and causes it to fail." _The healer's words echoed in her mind, making her tighten her grip on his long fingers. Such a heart problem was beyond the scope of elven healers. Yet Celebrían's plea to the Valar had not gone unanswered. Lady Estë and Lord Irmo were moved to carry out the surgery on Elrond's heart with Lady Melian in assistance. Yet, their words were not reassuring. Fragments of them echoed in her head.

"_If he survives the next few days - If we are able to coax his __fëa_ _back into his hröa." _She shuddered at the other possibility. No, he had survived so much already. Surely, with her help he would survive this.

"Beloved, Meleth-nin, do not leave me." She called as she steeled herself to keep watch over him, counting the slow breaths that passed his open lips and listening to the soft beat of his heart.


	14. Chapter 14 Awakening

The water that had frothed and swirled moments before was suddenly still in the presence of Lord Ulmo. The Vala reached out his hand and drew Olwë from where he bowed in obeisance.

"Olwë, you carry much anger and resentment deep within. Let us speak of it before it darkens your heart." A gentle wind ironically announced the presence of a more powerful Vala. That Olwë gave Manwë no bow was telling.

"Were your Maiar here unclothed during the kinslaying? Did they watch the events unfold when they could have prevented death?" Olwë's voice shook with righteous indignation.

"Yes, they were there. They cried, as did I. But the elder King ordered us not to interfere." Ulmo stepped closer.

"Our prior actions had unfortunate effects." Manwë and Ulmo exchanged a long look that Olwë interpreted as a private conversation.

"What are we to you?" Olwë shook with emotion. "Did you know what would happen the moment you exiled Fëanor to Formenos? Or do you allow our foibles and errors simply for your amusement or for the amusement of the Maiar who pass through our numbers unseen?"

"How can you ask that now, after so many years? Have most of those harmed not been reborn?" Manwe's voice was gentle. But Olwë instinctively backed away from him and moved towards Ulmo.

"You said the Maiar would only come among us openly. But that is not so. Do they believe there is little harm if they violate that precinct? Perhaps they think us too dim to know. Only Elrond or Elwing can detect their presence." Olwë took deep breath. "Trust is a bond that transcends cultures and kin. How are we to live together here, if we can not trust?"

"We are not omniscient nor do we control the will of the Maiar. Do not the Maiar have free will? Five we sent east to help the elves in the fight against Sauron. Once there, only two carried out the tasks with which they were entrusted." Manwë paused. "Perhaps Olwë, you have fared better with those upon whom you have assigned a duty. Perhaps you are a better judge of hearts?"

"There are some whom are easy to read, for they have devoted themselves to good works to ever carry out the will of the all father." Olwë paused. "The Peredhel is such a one. Will you not help him?"

"The Peredhil of the line of Lúthien are a mystery." Manwë sighed.

"Undoubtedly sent by Adar to keep us honest." Ulmo laughed in a deep rumbling voice. Manwë smiled and to Olwë it felt as it the light of pure love flooded his fëa.

"Perhaps they were sent by Ilúvatar to ultimately act as a bridge between the Maiar and the elves." Manwë waved his hand and a picture of Celembrior appeared to float in the mist. "We did not predict that an elf would have the ingenuity and power to craft the Silmarils, any more than we could have guess that his grandson would forge rings powerful enough to harnessed natural forces. Even more surprising, was the evolution that occurred as Cirdan, Olórin, your Granddaughter and the Peredhel wielded these instruments."

"We can see deeper into the All-father's plans than you, Olwë. Yet, sometimes we are also surprised. Even now, with the help of Irmo and Estë, the injuries to Elrond's heart are being cared for. Yet, it is the will of the One that the healing of his fëa falls to elves. In healing the refuges, many will grow in spirit and healing will blossom more fully among these lands." Manwë spread his arms wide as Ulmo encouraged Olwë to come forward.

"How many yeni have you kept these feelings hidden deep within? Only your love and concern for your great granddaughter brought these out into the open."

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

Cirulian and Erestor stood dumbfounded outside the healing halls. When the healers from Lórien had come in the middle of the night to take Elrond to surgery, they had only recognized Mistress Idhrendes. Yet, Celebrían followed the healers dazed and silent. Her lack of protest made them follow without question. Later an elf garbed in healer's attire had made it clear that no one was to enter the healing halls. Word would be sent once the complex surgery was over.

"Lord Elrond is safe here in the palace." The Teleri guards observed them. "You too have traveled far. Why not rest? We will inform you when the healers are finished."

"I do not doubt you. But I am not moving from this spot until I see my Lord and Lady safely back to their chambers." Cirulian folded his arms across his chest. Erestor paused then nodded. Cirulian, though dressed as an Imladhrim, was of the Teleri and readily assimilated into the palace guard.

"Why is Silsilalda not here? I will see if she is aware of the situation." Erestor was perplexed by the odd hour and by the absence of the normal healers. He told Cirulian so before he left to search out Silsilalda. A long covered walkway separated the halls of healing from the large square that stood in front of Olwë's palace. In the moonlit darkness, Erestor could not hold back a yawn. The excitement of the last few days with little sleep was catching up with him. The walkway path seemed to lengthen as he walked. _"Surely, the square was not this far."_ He thought dazedly before slipping into dreams.

"Erestor?" Someone was shaking him persistently. He opened his eyes to see Healer Silsilalda and Gwidian looking down at him. He was on a bench in the garden just before the great square. The morning sun was not enough to warm the late autumn air. Yet, he did not feel the chill. Still, Silsi and his wife wore cloaks as if it were cold. Gwidian frowned and caressed his cheek when he did not answer.

"Erestor, I thought you and Cirulian were watching Elrond? Our Lord and Lady are no where to be found." Gwidian wrapped her arms around her husband.

"Erestor, where are they." The voice was deep and calm, but the command in Arafinwë's voice was clear. It broke through the fog that still surrounded Erestor.

"Mistress Idhrendes took Elrond to the healing halls for surgery during night. I stayed for a short while then sought to inform Silsilalda. Somehow, I," Erestor paused. "I have no idea how it could be already morning. It was dark a few minutes ago when I set out from the halls."

"Was it indeed?" Arafinwë raise an eyebrow and turned to someone behind him, who Erestor could not see clearly. "Perhaps Celebrían's words were persuasive. I heard you also added your voices in this manner." Erestor's brow furled at this curious exchange, but he remained quiet and drew comfort from his wife's and Silsilalda's presence.

"When you did not appear at breakfast we came looking for you." Gwidian whispered. Arafinwë turned to his guard.

"Send word to the Queen that Elrond and Celebrían are in the halls of healing." The guard bowed and left. Arafinwë turned to the pair who were with him and grasped the Lady's hand. "Come Elwing and Eärendil. Now is the time for your unconditional support." They walked quickly to the healing halls and found a familiar figure standing guard.

"I was told you were coming and to enter once you arrived." Cirulian said. The typically stoic guard was weary and concerned. Arafinwë nodded and led the group forward. Eärendil held his wife's hand as they tentatively followed. Lady Idhrendes was standing by the closed-door at the end of the hall.

"The surgery went as well as could be expected."

"Why was I not informed?" Silsilalda was obviously upset. As Elrond's longtime friend and healer, she had the most thorough knowledge of his injuries. She would have protested more had Arafinwë not grasped her shoulder. One look at the King of the Noldor, and she fell silent.

"Others more knowledgeable than you performed the procedure." Healer Idhrendes stated firmly. Both her tone and her expression brokered no further argument. "He is in healing sleep. The physical injury of the heart has been repaired, though recovery will take time. As for the injury to his fëa," the healer paused as if she was listening to some conversation beyond their ears. "That is beyond our skill. His life still hangs in the balance. You may move them back to their quarters." She signaled them forward. Arafinwë led them into the recovery room, which was dim and nearly silent but for the low rhythmic hum of breathing. Elrond lay, white and still on the raised table. Celebrían stooped on a stool with her head resting on the table. It was designed with a stretcher on top for moving the patients between the surgeries. As they moved forward, they realized that Celebrían seemed to be sleeping with her face touching her husband's hand. Arafinwë was at his granddaughter's side an instant later while Silsilalda stepped up to assess Elrond. A soft glow emanated from Celebrían, which seemed to engulf both her and her husband.

"It is a shared healing sleep." Silsilalda said softly. "She is his anchor."

"Great trials leave marks on the fëa. The loss of family tears holes in it. Celebrimbor's ring left others." Arafinwë ran his hands over Elrond's forehead as he too assessed the Peredhel. Elwing and Eärendil held back, obviously fearful to intervene given that Celebrían was there. Arafinwë turned towards them when he noted their absence.

"You must help heal his fëa. He has suffered the loss of too many." Arafinwë waved them forward as he gently lifted Celebrían. He motioned with his head. "Let us return them to their quarters." Erestor, Cirulian and Eärendil moved forward to lift the stretcher under Silsilalda's guidance. Elwing carefully took hold of Elrond's hand and walked beside them.

"Even the bonds to his children were severed during the journey here to help them concentrate on their tasks." Erestor divulged quietly.

"Only one bond has been renewed and tethers his spirit here." Silsilalda motioned to Celebrían.

"But it is not enough to bind his spirit together. We must be part of his healing." Arafinwë whispered as led them out from the healing halls. Celebrían blinked dazedly but did not truly wake. She was not wholly aware of the trip back to their room. Nor did she speak when they laid her gently beside Elrond in the sizeable bed, placing her hand gently over his bandaged chest. Parts of his spirit responded. They all gave a sigh of hope when saw a strengthening in the colors of their joined aura's.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"Good morning." Celebrían blinked to clear her vision. Her grandmother was sitting beside her. She did not reply, instead she sat up, careful not to jostle her husband too much. He was pale, but his breathing was steady.

"How is he?" Eärwen moved to drape a light robe over her. She shrugged it away and repeated her question. "How is he?"

"The healers were pleased at how his heart is mending." Eärwen said carefully. No need to bring up the obvious damage that remained to his fëa. She guided her granddaughter's arms into the robe. Celebrían had eyes only for her husband. "But they are keeping him heavily sedated given the obvious pain inflicted by the surgery."

"He is so pale." Celebrían's voice shook as she lifted Elrond's hand to her lips then cupped it against her cheek. Eärwen's heart went out to her. But they were not alone, and perhaps it was time to make her granddaughter aware of that. Celebrían spoke before she could say something. "He can not leave me now. Not now, after we have finally been reunited." Eärwen moved closer and stood behind her granddaughter to shield her from the view of the others.

"Go to the sitting room." She commanded to them. "They deserve their privacy." Celebrían looked up in shock, barely catching the eyes of a blond elf. From her perspective on the low bed, he seemed to tower above her. His eyes flashed for a second, jogging an old memory.

"_I barely remember my Adar." Elrond admitted as they stood on the shores of __Lake Nenuial__ during their courtship. He opened his mind and shared an image that resembled this elf. "I like to think that I remember him. But the day he sailed, all I remember was his ship, Elros playing on the beach, and my Mother's sorrow. She would have gladly gone with him. We were her …. But duties tied her to Sirion." _His slip came back to her. She wondered again about its significance.

"Celebrían?" Eärwen ordered the others out of the room and was now looking at Celebrían with worry. "Have you not yet met Eärendil and Elwing?" Celebrían shook her head in the negative. Eärwen gently stroked her cheek and stated calmly. "Well, come wash and dress. Then you can meet you in-laws."

"No, I can not leave him." Eärwen took Celebrían's hand in her own.

"You are not leaving him child. You have slept long – nearly two full days. Come refresh yourself and have a bite to eat."

"I dare not leave him." Her voice wavered. How could she explain that slivers of his fëa swirled in little eddy about her own? Their connection was what kept him grounded. She just prayed it would be enough that slowly these pieces would be reintegrated and they could mend the tears in his soul. "Just ask them to send the meal here."

"I have already requested that they send a meal here." Her grandmother smiled indulgently but her voice turned firm. "But you must bath and change. All your wits are required to meet two who have little idea of what it truly means to be a parent. They are mired in the events of ages past, giving undue weight to words voiced by tiny children." She helped her rise and guided her to the attendant.

"My Lady, allow me." The elleth led her away to the washroom.

"I am fine." Celebrían replied as she tried to suppress her annoyance. Her Grandmother was Queen and not to be gainsaid. A bath was waiting. The cheerful maid was efficient and helped her undress and led her to the tub. She sank down with a deep sigh into the hot water. The elleth set about washing her hair. The gentle pressure on her scalp made her sigh again.

"That is right, my Lady. A little pampering is in order. Then we will have you dressed to meet your in-laws." The elleth soothed and babbled on about her own first meeting with her husband's parent's ages before.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

"Why did you not tell me?" Galadriel's ire was clear. That she could no longer hide her own emotions under a diplomatic and ethereal barrier gave him reason to pause. "Take me to them!"

"Saes (please) sister," Finrod spoke softly. He was more used to dealing with the reborn that had much different issues than the injuries to his sister's fëa. "You must realize that you have no more healing strength to spare. I do not understand the principles behind Celembrior's creations, but I think they drew more strength from you than they gave." Her exquisite azure eyes spoke of hesitation before she softly spoke.

"I know not how he could have wroth such creations. The connections they supported were at once empowering and draining." She shuddered slightly and Finrod knew it was from loss. "I can not truly explain." He squeezed her hand supportively.

"You do not have to. Just know that these schisms in your spirit will require much time to heal. Our parents could not bear to lose you when you have been so newly restored to them."

"I would not want Elrond to lose his battle either. My daughter's happiness lies in the balance." Galadriel pushed past her brother and stepped out into the hall. Only Finrod noted her hesitation and stepped up beside her.

"Lady Artanis, Lord Findaráto, may we be of service?" The guards inquired.

"We are going to see my niece." Finrod informed them as he turned to his sister. "May I? Celebrian and Elrond's suite is in the east wing." Finrod smiled as his sister took his arm.

_XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX_

Celebrían smoothed down the layers on the front of her dress. It was a comfortable weave, too casual for meeting her in-laws for the first time. But all that mattered was if Eärwen had approved. The kindly maid studied her hair, stepping forward to capture a wayward strand and guide it back into the braids.

"You look lovely, if I may say so, my Lady." The elleth smiled and motioned to the door. "Queen Eärwen sent word that it is time to meet your husband's parents and to enjoy a small meal." Celebrían nodded, thanked her, and then took a deep breath before stepping into the other room. Three people sat around a table filled with seasonal treats. Her Grandmother greeted her.

"Elrond is not alone?" Celebrían's voice wavered in fear. "Surely Erestor or Cirulian are with him?"

"Nay dear one, he is not alone, though it is healers and not his friends and family who are with him. I sent Erestor down to the Quay to meet a ship." Eärwen stepped forward to take her Granddaughter's hand. "We just stepped from Elrond's room. The healers will check the incision site and change his dressings. They estimated the process would last a half an hour. Come, refresh yourself and meet Lord Eärendil and Lady Elwing." She drew Celebrian over to them. Eärendil stepped forward first.

"Lady Celebrían," he bowed over Celebrían's hand. "It is good to finally meet you. Words of the happiness you brought to our son and of your beautiful children were as a balm to our spirits." Celebrían looked down first at the rough hand of the Mariner then up into his stunning blue eyes. Although his eyes and hair color were very different from Elrond's, there was something about his countenance that marked him as Elrond's Adar.

"It is good to finally meet you. Elrond will be amazed to …. see you." Celebrían's verbal stumble was immediately understood.

"He does not remember me." Eärendil stated. Celebrían nodded. Elwing stifled a gasp, which prompted Celebrían to turn and greet her. Elwing pulled her daughter in law into a chair when she noted how the younger elleth trembled. Then Eärwen poured her a glass of the famed Teleri restorative.

"Drink child." The Noldor Queen ordered. Celebrían glanced back at Eärendil. The ghostly huge figure from Elrond's childhood memory bore a resemblance to the person sitting beside her. She took a bite of the seasoned minnows and rice, a simple Telerin snack.

"His memories of you are vague." She automatically fingered a pendant the hung around her neck and suddenly realized the reason that she had felt it compelled to wear Elrond's first gift." She moved to unhook the chain. "He did not have much when they left Himring." Both her in-laws shuddered at the reminder. "He brought what was most dear to him – some books, a harp gifted to him by Maglor, and this pendant. He said it gave him courage and was a gift from you to remind him of loyal friends. I will ever be in your debt because you had the foresight to send Glorfindel back to him." She handed the pendant to Eärendil.

"How did it come to you?" He fingered the small gold flower and admitted softly. "I did give it to one of my sons. It was just a small thing, meant to appease him before we went to a town meeting."

"He gave it to me as a token at the beginning of our courtship. It meant a great deal to him." Celebrían smiled at the treasured memory.

"It was my Naneth who suggested Glorfindel go back. Idril and Glorfindel were old friends. She recognized his restlessness. We were all shocked when the Valar permitted it. I asked him to deliver a message and our love." Eärendil took a deep breath. "Truthfully, I could not tell my sons apart. I did not spend much time with them, so focused was I on my own quest."

"You have the chance to change that." A new voice reminded him. They turned to see Galadriel and Findaráto enter.

"Naneth! Uncle!" Celebrían rose to greet them, embracing her mother and leading her to the table. "Please join us. Naneth, you look weary. Are you well?" Galadriel cupped her daughter's cheek and ignored the question.

"How is it you are just meeting each other?" Galadriel watched her daughter blush. Eärendil and Elwing looked even more ashamed. "I thought given our friendship in Doriath and Sirion that you would reach out to my daughter especially considering that she is also your daughter in law."

"I did not know if," Celebrían started out, but Elwing interrupted her.

"Forgive our foolishness." Elwing apologized. "We sent no invitation. We received but one letter from Elrond and did not think Celebrían would want to meet us."

"He received only one letter from you." Galadriel's voice was soft but the accusation clear. Celebrían turned to her Mother, dismayed to be able to read weariness in her eyes. Yet Galadriel's voice was light and even as she continued. "At that time, he was but a youth dealing with what was for him cataclysmic change."

"I sent as much as I dared." Eärwen's eyes flashed with the power and controlled anger Celebrían usually associated with Galadriel. "A trunk full of gifts for my daughter and her husband during the War of Wrath and letters whenever we were aware of elves traveling east." The Matriarch of the family presumed that Elwing had done the same.

"The past can not be changed." Finrod stressed each word equally. "Now, is the time to give all we can to those who have struggled so hard to overcome the darkness."

"Finrod tells me that Elrond's spirit is splintered and in distress." Galadriel's voice as filled with concern as she took her daughter's hand "It is not the first time I have heard this description. Can you tell me how this happened and what you perceive?"

"It occurred during the surgery." Celebrían carefully omitted the Valar's presence, although she knew her Naneth and Uncle understood the unspoken details. "I felt his spirit breaking like the shattering of a mirror as it left his hröar."

"His spirit left his hröa?" Eärwen repeated. Eärendil looked stunned while Elwing did not seem to react. "Then he will die?"

"The Valar said I was his anchor. Indeed, it seemed as if the pieces of his fëa surrounded me. The Valar intervened at this point." Celebrían did not see any harm in this admission. "They call his spirit back and tried to bind it to his hröa, but they could not say if it would be successful. I can still feel parts of his spirit that did not heed their call and remain near me." A tear slipped unbidden down her cheek.

"Keep hope alive, dear daughter." Galadriel touched the tear. "He has survived such a thing before – perhaps more than once." Then mind-to-mind she spoke to Finrod. _"Why are Ereinion and Indiriel not here? Surely they have been reborn?" _

"_We thought – at least Olwë and Arafinwë thought – that Eärendil and Elwing needed to meet their son first. They will be arriving shortly." _Finrod replied. Galadriel then relayed an incident from over a yen earlier, when Elrond had been tortured and poisoned by one of the Istar. With Vilya's help, his spirit and hröa transformed, ridding him of the poison and freeing him to travel on the wind to warn Thranduil of the danger.

"One of the Istar!" Eärendil repeated in shock.

"How could Celembrior's creations enable such a transformation?" Finrod was curious.

"Likely Alatar, though we know not if he was under the control of Sauron, for the poison originated in Mordor." Galadriel clarified, pointedly ignoring her brother's question. "It was Glorfindel who helped draw him back. I can only guess that it was Ilúvatar's will. It was many weeks before his spirit recovered and months before his hröa healed."

"The new scars in his shoulder and down his arm." Celebrían shuddered, clearly horrified by the idea that her husband had again been a captive. Her old nightmare surfaced, which featured her mourning the disembodied song of his fëa, which vanished in the wind.

"No longer visible but still detectable. After that incident, Arwen's Maiar heritage awoke. Thus, Arwen remained with us in Lothlórien for many years, for only she and Elrond could detect the approach of one of the Maiar." Galadriel squeezed her daughter's hand. "Your requests of Glorfindel and of Erestor showed a foresight that astonished me."

"I see there is much yet from the events that occurred after I sailed, which you and Elrond need to relay to me." Celebrían stated. At that moment, the door opened and the healers emerged. Lady Idhrendes emerged followed by Silsilalda and Master Tarwatirno.

"The heart is responding well, although time is needed for true healing. We need to attend to the hobbits next. Mithrandir is with them. Please summon us if you have further concerns." Lady Idhrendes reported before leaving with Master Tarwatirno. Silsilalda walked up to Celebrían.

"My Lady, we lacked the skill for such an operation in Imladris. Even here, there have been no successful procedures. But truly, the repair of his heart has gone well. So perhaps this will be the first example of a successful procedure. If his spirit is able to heal, his hröa will too." Silsilalda's words filled Celebrían with renewed hope.

"Naneth, please come and tell us how the state of his fëa compares to the last time you observed this?" Galadriel rose with her brother's aid and followed her daughter into the bedroom. Celebrían quickly sat down on the bed next to her husband. A new top sheet in blue covered his bandages. Celebrían gently straightened the unusually warm quilt over him. Finrod sensed her concern, and as Galadriel sat down in the chair by Elrond, he went to stir the fire. It was not cold, but the slight chill from autumn air would be felt by one injured. Celebrían bent to kiss his brow as her Mother took Elrond's limp hand. She held her breath as she watched Galadriel assess Elrond's spirit. Silsilalda moved forward to help the Lady of Light but then gladly ceded her position to the former King of Nargothrond. The bright powerful son of Arafinwë gently laid his hand on his sister's shoulder, gifting her strength. A trained healer, Finrod had recognized the extensive lacerations that marred Elrond's fëa as clearly as he had seen the deep hurts to his sister's spirit. But the news that the Peredhel had survived such a break from his hröa previously was shocking. Silence reigned for a seemingly endless time. How could a quarter hour pass so slowly? Finally, Galadriel blinked dazedly and drew in a deep breath.

"The hurts cut deeper than before, but now your spirit is the strong thread connecting you both. Some of the tears to his spirit can be mended by reestablishing connections sundered over these many long years. The loss of his mother was the first in a long line of trials. We cannot mend all the losses. For some are gone forever. Yet," Galadriel turned to Eärendil, "there is time to forge new relationships with an Adar he did not know and with Grandparents newly met." They listened in rapt attention as Galadriel described his recovery after being lost in the wind. Celebrian moved to fasten the golden flower chain around his neck in honor to the dear brother of their heart, who had stood by Elrond for over an age. Finally, Elwing stepped forward with a tremulous smile and sought to call to her son to try to awaken their familial bond broken over six thousand years earlier. But Elrond's spirit tethered through Celebrian's strength was yet awash in pain and confusion and did not respond to Elwing's calls. Eärendil moved forward and squeezed her hand, adding the light of his spirit to the call. Galadriel and Finrod sought to strengthen Celebrian, who gave of so much through her bond to Elrond.

"Elrond, Ion-nin." Elwing focused all her thoughts on this call. The light swirled as images flashed in Elwing's mind. Were she not of the Maiar these little insights would have flashed to quickly for her to catch.

"Our presence evokes memories." She gasped_. Elros playing on the beach while a white ship sailed away. A voice cried in the night. It was her voice! "__Eärendil why have you left me? I cannot care for them alone. What were we thinking having children now?" The soulful melancholy call of a seagull rang out. _

"_I love you my sons - no matter what happens." Elwing's voice and the sensation of a light kiss goodbye. Screams and fire followed. A flaming head and angry eyes swirled before them. Maedhros' eyes glazed with battle fury as fingers tightened around a small neck. _

"_Even your mother despised you abandoning you for a stone."_

"_Maedhros stop! They are but children! Stop brother!" Being pulled into a safe embrace trying to shield him from the gruesome view. __"Fear drives away reason. An instinct to fly takes over." Maglor's voice soothed. "Do not take to heart the words my brother spoke in anger and frustration. I will keep you safe." _Then suddenly she sensed nothing more from him and could not help but sob at the jumbled insights. Had her spirit awaken these long buried memories? Her husband squeezed her arm.

"Perhaps it is better that he does not remember us." Eärendil said.

"Nay, he does remember." She said softly, leaning forward to kiss Elrond's forehead as she grasped his hand tightly. "Ion-nin, please forgive me. Please forgive us. There is no excuse for our abandoning you." She felt Eärendil bristle behind her. "We can not change the past. But I would heal this wound in your soul, if you would let me. Please draw strength from us, please." Elwing gasped as different pieces of her sons' soul solidified as a powerful force, which concealed these ancient memories from her.

"_Ion-nin, please forgive me. Please forgive us." _She called and found herself looking into silver eyes. They were open and revealed the depth of the damage to his fëa and the pain he was bearing due to the surgery. She read wonder and shocked recognition in his silver eyes.

"Nana," the word barely passed his breathless lips. Yet it rang in her soul. In her head, she heard his rich tenor clearly expressing his utter amazement. _"Long years has it been since I last dreamt of you. It is a good dream." _ A long forgotten melody played in the background of his thoughts. His eyes closed again in exhaustion as she bent to kiss his temple.

"Not a dream, ion-nin." She whispered. "I so look forward to getting to know you."


End file.
